"As a youth, I used to weep in butcher shops."
Cutting the bracken. Cutting the bracken.
Okay, well... I've done very little since I last checked in. Worked away at the goat farm mostly and keeping up with my music-y... stuff.
Really, my days are limited to Music, Goats and DeviantArt... but those aside, I've done very little. No emotional strains, no depressions... and apart from the occasional burst of anger here and and again... I've been fairly stable emotionally. The last time I cried was when we were tattooing the ears of the young goats. (It's one thing to read about it... it's another thing altogether to actually witness it. To hold the goats down, feel them jerk and pretest and to listen to them wail and scream. You don't think goats can scream? Think again. It's the most unearthly sound you'll ever hear.) I was expecting an electric tattooing device... similar to when humans get their ears pierced. One quick pinprick and it's over... but instead they showed me a handheld manual device... and the contraption rather resembled large metal pliars with sharp needly edges. It worked by getting the center of the goat's ear into the teeth and clamping hard with the grip of your hand. Ghastly really, and hard to hold the animal down once they felt the bite. Then you rub green ink into the wound and you have your tattoo.
The weeping was mild, however. Nothing really worth going into in depth. Only that my mentor understood entirely and that it meant I respected and was sensitive toward the animal. That she'd rather see someone do that than WANT to hurt them. It's a painful process for them, and even though I'm certainly NOT an animal-rights extremist by ANY means, I still do not like hurting things if I can possible help it. (I let flies outside rather than swat them.)
Granted, It's not preventing me from coming back to the farm at all. I simply love the goats far to much to give up on them, so I continue to learn and to know them and the job itself with growing enthusiasm and eagerness. And all these years I never envisioned myself working in agriculture. Funny how that works,eh? Well... the goats after all, are my people.;)
And... I suppose that's good enough for tonight.
Okay, well... I've done very little since I last checked in. Worked away at the goat farm mostly and keeping up with my music-y... stuff.
Really, my days are limited to Music, Goats and DeviantArt... but those aside, I've done very little. No emotional strains, no depressions... and apart from the occasional burst of anger here and and again... I've been fairly stable emotionally. The last time I cried was when we were tattooing the ears of the young goats. (It's one thing to read about it... it's another thing altogether to actually witness it. To hold the goats down, feel them jerk and pretest and to listen to them wail and scream. You don't think goats can scream? Think again. It's the most unearthly sound you'll ever hear.) I was expecting an electric tattooing device... similar to when humans get their ears pierced. One quick pinprick and it's over... but instead they showed me a handheld manual device... and the contraption rather resembled large metal pliars with sharp needly edges. It worked by getting the center of the goat's ear into the teeth and clamping hard with the grip of your hand. Ghastly really, and hard to hold the animal down once they felt the bite. Then you rub green ink into the wound and you have your tattoo.
The weeping was mild, however. Nothing really worth going into in depth. Only that my mentor understood entirely and that it meant I respected and was sensitive toward the animal. That she'd rather see someone do that than WANT to hurt them. It's a painful process for them, and even though I'm certainly NOT an animal-rights extremist by ANY means, I still do not like hurting things if I can possible help it. (I let flies outside rather than swat them.)
Granted, It's not preventing me from coming back to the farm at all. I simply love the goats far to much to give up on them, so I continue to learn and to know them and the job itself with growing enthusiasm and eagerness. And all these years I never envisioned myself working in agriculture. Funny how that works,eh? Well... the goats after all, are my people.;)
And... I suppose that's good enough for tonight.