Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Lamby!


Forgive me if I have told this one before, it is an interesting tale of city folks, living in the country. 

I went to law school with Paul, this tall lanky farmer from just west of Frankfort, Kentucky.  Paul had spent his life around live-stock, and knew that it was raised for one purpose, to end up on the table as steaks, roasts and chops.  His parents owned a large farm, when he married he built a second home on the farm, and farmed along with his parents.  He had a couple of bachelors degrees, and ran a few business along the way- but every morning and every evening of his his life had been devoted to taking raising animals for eventual slaughter.  

New neighbors moved in across the road and down a ways.  The new neighbors were city people, they had never lived without sidewalks, street lights, and city sewers before.  Come spring Paul had a pasture full of sheep and lambs.  The neighbors kids became enthralled by the lambs. Paul tried to explain that lambs were not long term house pets, they grew into sheep, like baby humans grew into moody teenagers, that you really didn't want to keep around the house any longer. Lambs grew up to become lamb-chops, and leg-of-lamb.  The kids persisted and the parents bought one for the kids to raise. 

The kids named him Lamby. They had no idea what they were getting into.  When lambs are newly born, they are like a medium size dog. Lambs can be bottle fed, and played with, and kept indoors - though they don't potty train - ever.  

After a few months the neighbor came to visit.   Lamby had outgrown the house, everyone was tired of cleaning up the "droppings" and he was starting to smell like a sheep.  He begged Paul to help him out and take the lamb back - admitting that buying it was a bad idea. Paul said, "well why don't you take him into the processor down on Shelbyville Road.  The neighbor said, "oh I just couldn't do THAT!" Paul said "you know what I am going to do with the lamb," the guy protested - "don't tell me, don't tell me, and for gods sake don't tell the kids," I will let them know you are taking him in.  Please pick him up in the morning, he will be on the patio along the driveway.   

Paul arrived and Lamby was tied to a post on the patio.  Freshly shampooed and blow dried, with a red bow in his hair.  Paul picked the lamb up, carried him out and put him in the back of his pick-up truck.  The kids came running out, and Paul feared an emotional scene.  The kids protested, that Lamby didn't like riding in the back, the wind messed up his fleece, Lamby liked to ride on the front seat, with the window open.  Paul spread a blanket on the seat, moved Lamby to the front seat, and drove off toward Shelbyville Road.   

Would you adjust well to life in the country? 

7 comments:

  1. If I'm more than a mile from a Tesco Express I get jittery.
    JP

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  2. To answer your question.....idid!

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  3. Oh, groan... Life int he country. I doubt I'd adjust.

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  4. nope, I'mma city kid all the way!

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  5. Ohhhhh!!! Poor Lamby!!!!!!

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  6. I think I would do well. sometimes I imagine a house where the nearest neighbor is 3 miles away.

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