My animals may actually not have to eat ice anymore.
We headed out to the farm Saturday afternoon and chilly is not accurate enough. Freezing. Nose-running cold. Even with a scarf wrapped around my head and face, I walked around miserable. Oh, the wind! Poor Licorice had steam coming out of his nose. Not fun.
When we first arrived, we noticed a flock of buzzards in the back pasture. We had let the donkeys and mule in there on Friday. The boys couldn't get back there fast enough to investigate the potential nastiness the buzzards were eating. I, on the other hand, was torn between being part of this pack of amateur detectives and not wanting to see whatever was back there. I decided to follow along behind, slowly, figuring that if it was completely disgusting, my husband would warn me or my son would scream "COOL!" and I could head another way. We arrived at the location of interest to find a half-buried cow. His head was intact, sort of, but the skin had been peeled back on the half of the body that was showing. The boys intently peered into the disrupted grave while I said, "Oh, wow, a cow" and left to "go check" on the mule. The buzzards did not dig up this poor cow so I guess one of our donkeys did (for some reason I don't think my mule did). I suggested we bury the poor thing back up but I was quickly vetoed and it was decided to let the buzzards finish their job. All in all, a big yuck and a reminder that there will be many new experiences for all of us in the days ahead.
Colin and his friend had brought out BB guns and targets and spent the rest of the time shooting things. A big patch of land is a little boy's dream come true. I finally succeeded in rounding everyone up and after several moments of pleading and begging, they agreed we could go home. I told Licorice and the donkeys good bye and snapped a quick picture.
He looks sad, doesn't he? I think he's starting to like me. :)