"What's a Burdizzo?", you ask.
Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2009 3:47 am
Yoli here,
Y'day I had to make a run to the smaller ranch some distance southwest of SA in order to deliver some paperwork that Ash(leigh) had forgotten to send before she left town (coast.) The foreman needed it ASAP so a female friend from the office and I made our way through intermittent rain for a couple of hours and accomplished the mission. She, BTW, is not a member of the KiKaKo and has no knowledge of my Kastration Kink.
We arrived at the ranch HQ, handed over the documents, and accepted an invitation to lunch upon BBQ'd wild hog, some great beans, potato salad, etc.
There were a couple of ranch hands and their wives and kids present and we enjoyed the occasion very much.
After the meal we went into the main barn and workshop to see an artist's rendering of a new small dock, boathouse, and guest bunkhouse to be built on the larger of the ranch lakes (about 65 acres at normal pool.) There was a "tool" hanging on one wall and although I knew what it was my friend did not. She asked "What are those funny looking pliers for?" The foreman, a fine and decent gentleman of the old school of Mexican gallantry, hemmed and hawed but before he could frame a response one of the ranch hands, a salty old Anglo who might have been born somewhere between the Battle of Gettysburg and the sinking of the Titanic rasped "That's a Burdizzo, Missy, we use it to make steers outta bull calves."
My ditzy companion replied "How does a pair of pliers do that?" and Methuselah answered "We squeeze their balls with it and it kills them balls."
I don't know who was closer to fainting, the foreman (out of embarrassment at the old cowboy's "directness",) or my friend, but I can tell you who nearly laughed her adorable hiney off.
On the way home she asked me if I'd ever seen a Burdizzo in use. " *Yes, but not on cattle. Don't ask." She didn't pursue it. Darn! A potential recruit too!
Yoli
Sitting here, windows open, savoring the light and sound show as well as the scent of the torrential downpour outside my open window.
*Only on the internet, though. Never in person...so far.
Y'day I had to make a run to the smaller ranch some distance southwest of SA in order to deliver some paperwork that Ash(leigh) had forgotten to send before she left town (coast.) The foreman needed it ASAP so a female friend from the office and I made our way through intermittent rain for a couple of hours and accomplished the mission. She, BTW, is not a member of the KiKaKo and has no knowledge of my Kastration Kink.
We arrived at the ranch HQ, handed over the documents, and accepted an invitation to lunch upon BBQ'd wild hog, some great beans, potato salad, etc.
There were a couple of ranch hands and their wives and kids present and we enjoyed the occasion very much.
After the meal we went into the main barn and workshop to see an artist's rendering of a new small dock, boathouse, and guest bunkhouse to be built on the larger of the ranch lakes (about 65 acres at normal pool.) There was a "tool" hanging on one wall and although I knew what it was my friend did not. She asked "What are those funny looking pliers for?" The foreman, a fine and decent gentleman of the old school of Mexican gallantry, hemmed and hawed but before he could frame a response one of the ranch hands, a salty old Anglo who might have been born somewhere between the Battle of Gettysburg and the sinking of the Titanic rasped "That's a Burdizzo, Missy, we use it to make steers outta bull calves."
My ditzy companion replied "How does a pair of pliers do that?" and Methuselah answered "We squeeze their balls with it and it kills them balls."
I don't know who was closer to fainting, the foreman (out of embarrassment at the old cowboy's "directness",) or my friend, but I can tell you who nearly laughed her adorable hiney off.
On the way home she asked me if I'd ever seen a Burdizzo in use. " *Yes, but not on cattle. Don't ask." She didn't pursue it. Darn! A potential recruit too!
Yoli
Sitting here, windows open, savoring the light and sound show as well as the scent of the torrential downpour outside my open window.
*Only on the internet, though. Never in person...so far.
