About a week ago I wrote about a sick rooster on a friend's farm. The rooster had been bitten by a snake and while at the farm, we had helped to give him a big wallop of vitamin C. On enquiring about the rooster the next day, we learned that although his organs were working ok, the rooster's nervous system had broken down. Mr Rooster was perky and alert, but he was paralysed.
Our friend, Robert decided to put the rooster out of his misery, and considerate of his wife's affection for all animals, he put the rooster in the basket of his four-wheeler, and took him for the (last) ride of his life to their 'pet cemetary' (other beloved pets had also been laid to rest due to snake bites). Robert begain digging a hole, deep enough to house Mr Rooster. He wanted to undertake the task as quickly as possible - the sun was rising high in the sky and beating down on both of them. Mr Rooster was placed in the hole and Robert began the rhythm of scooping dirt over him: shovel, twist, drop, shovel, twist, drop. The hole was filling quickly. Shovel, twist, drop. Shovel, twist, ... what the?
Out of the soil emerged a seizing chicken foot.
And with that, Robert put the largest boulder he could find (and move) over the grave site and fled on his four wheeler for the homestead ....
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Our Sam loves to ride his dirt bike. It has been said that there's not a patch or mound of dirt that he hasn't covered in our small village (and surrounding Travelling Stock Reserves). He was delighted, then, when his friend, Ben introduced him to a mound, in the middle of one of their farm's paddocks. The lads spent a good half hour in a bubble of dust, sweat, petrol fumes and roaring, overheated engines - competing for the highest jump, oblivous of their surroundings. Then, out of their zone -
"Ben! Ben! BEN! What the .... What are you DOOOO..ING?" It was Ben's dad, shouting from the car.
"C'mon, Sam, let's scarper ..."
"What's the matter?"
"Don't worry about it.. let's go ..."
A few hours later, when the dust had settled (in more ways than one), the lads returned to their new and recently compacted jump in the paddock. But not with the intention to - well - jump. Sam slid off his bike to take a closer look... there was a horse's hoof sticking out of the dirt, like a conquering flag on a mountain top.
Sam turned to Ben "did you know?"