I have no idea what Ruthie might have said that ticked off the other girls, but it must have been pretty bad because the entire herd turned on her yesterday morning. While milking Tessie, I could hear the sound of bone hitting bone in a head-butting match outside, and watched as a group and then ones and twos would chase Ruth in the pen. As the ultimate punishment, they put Cindy on duty to keep Ruthie from getting to the alfalfa. Ruth kept trying to say she was sorry, but if she made a move toward breakfast, Cindy put her ears back and swung her head. I have no separate pen to isolate the outcast so they will have to settle it themselves. Ruthie is getting up there in years, but she's never learned to watch what she says. She's been a scrapper all her life.
The beastie boys took last night off and Bess and I were happy. For the better part of a week, the pack has called the meeting to order down in the front pasture about 3:30 a.m., howling and yipping at the top of their lungs. That's enough to make you sit straight up in bed.
The coyotes are not the only night owls. Having slept all day in this hot weather, Frank and Pearl have been staying out to hunt after dark. They are successful. I know this because they bring their snacks to either the front porch or one of the kitchen doors to dine. It is amazing that the inedible parts look as if they'd been surgically removed, intact and clean as a whistle. How do they do that, working with teeth and claws? It behooves me to watch my step as I walk out the door. In the morning, the cats are waiting to come in. Frank gives a polite burp as he passes by.
I'm getting pretty tired of potato salad.
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As funny as you made Ruthie's trials and tribulations sound, it really is amazing to think that the group acts pretty much in unison to mete out the punishment and then put one on guard duty. It DOES make one wonder what on earth she did...and how they decide who is the one on guard!
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