I love floppy-eared goats.
Sheep in electric pink.
And squeaky clean sleeping pigs.
This weekend is the Black Walnut Festival here. It means parades, funnel cake, animals at the 4-H barn, and more funnel cake.
A great emphasis should be put on the funnel cake.
I was on my way to take Morgan to the start of the Black Walnut Festival on Friday when she got a call from her friend and my cousin’s son’s girlfriend, Amanda, that we needed to stop by the 4-H barn so that Morgan could braid her hair before she showed her calf. I don’t require a lot of excuses to stop by the 4-H barn every year to see the animals, so this wasn’t a terrible nuisance.
This is Amanda. Look at the rosy cheeks, the smile, the dimples.
We think Madison should marry her. I DIDN’T SAY THAT. Don’t tell Madison. But if he doesn’t marry her, I’m going to.
Anyway. Here’s Amanda’s calf. A six-month-old 500-pound Angus heifer.
After we got there, Amanda told Morgan, “I didn’t really want you to braid my hair. I just wanted you to come see my calf.”
Amanda’s lucky I have a thing for pink piggy ears.
While we were there, I couldn’t help noticing….
….something about all the calves. THEY ALL HAD HALTERS.
All these CHILDREN. Who can put HALTERS ON THEIR CALVES. And yet I can’t.
The shame of it all.
Me: “When are you coming to put a halter on my calf?”
Amanda: “You have a calf?”
Me: “YOU KNOW I HAVE A CALF. When are you coming to put a halter on her?”
Amanda: “I don’t know…..”
But I do.
Oh, yes, I do.
I’m gonna tell her I need her to come braid my hair….