I find it entirely charming that we humans have decided to make our livestock, as they’re called, as beautiful as possible. Some of these chickens are walking paintings, and I think they know it. The way the roosters prance, and the way our one Silkie meanders so demurely, they’ve got to know, or at least suspect.
I’ve written before about how I love these animals, and I do. Tickling the back of my mind though, there are a few strangenesses to breeding animals for aesthetics and for personality, but, I think it’s born of love, affection, really.
We picked up a quarter of a cow from some folks just down the road. Highland cows with hair like redheads. The woman said they’ve been farming cattle there for almost fifty years, and the first highland they got could trace its lineage to the first one off the boat from Scotland. (it was that one’s daughter)
It’s clear that folks around here really care about their animals. We may just have different opinions about what constitutes caring.
I suspect the main differences are largely aesthetic, and a little bit financial.
Either way, I’ve not been happier about moving out of Burlington, New York, than I was today.
Well, that’s not true.
I was pretty happy when I was shirtless in the sun in July.
But July’s not far off.
Either way, I’ve not been happier about moving out of Burlington, New York, than I was today.
Well, that’s not true.
I was pretty happy when I was shirtless in the sun in July.
But July’s not far off.