We believe the feet were attached to a fully-loaded skunk. We drew that conclusion from the highly fragrant state of our paddock yesterday morning. Evidently they like the idea of approaching winter as much as we donkeys. They're just better at expressing their feelings.
Jack and I have been snacking on a selection of nicely dried leaves but the horses insist on grazing over the spent pasture. They have very little imagination and a woefully primitive palate. Molly did debark a tree but that was in a fit of pique because the Woman was working with Doc. It garnered her some attention, even if it was in the form of bellowed threats.
The foot man came yesterday and thankfully pulled off Molly's steel shoes for the winter. It lessens her stomping ability by about fifty percent which chagrins her to no end. We had our usual hoof trims and although Jack had a passing bout of projectile manure expulsion, this time he missed the foot man's shoes. This caused the foot man to become even more cheerful than usual.
The corn in our front field is being processed by the huge machine, the observing of which is one of my favourite pastimes. Last night was even more exciting. We experienced a "weather event" which I believe to have been a small tornadic activity. There was a tremendous wind which sounded like a train, accompanied by intense rain and then the air pressure and temperature changed instantly and dramatically. We could see the lights on the front of the corn mangling machine and quite suddenly the corn whipped from side to side and then ascended directly up in the air, as if pulled by a violent, unseen hand. It was of great interest for someone who studies weather patterns as avidly as I.
The woman sank to her usual low level, repeating the facile "witticism" she always finds so amusing. "Sheaffer, if we have a tornado, we'll all hide under you and hang onto a leg." Ha. Ha. Ha.