My blog on this site was originally the story of a Londoner coming to terms with life in the country having moved from the town, which then morphed into my acceptance and indeed pleasure in living in the country.
Today’s choice of word gives me the opportunity to discuss country matters, something which I haven’t done for some time, however with the choice of word being incubate I was immediately thinking of the life cycle of the fauna in my neck of the woods. I have come to love the countryside but have to admit I know nothing of the workings of it.
For example just up the road from where we live is a chicken farm but I could no more tell you the incubation period for a chicken than fly, nor for that matter could I solve the perennial conundrum of whether the chicken or the egg came first. I have a feeling even country folk don’t know the answer to that one.
I know so little of the reproductive process of the animals, the reason being, when I was at school the reproductive cycle and all the associated gubbins of a rabbit was what sufficed for what is now called sex education. It was taught in such a way as to make the subject seem slightly grubby, which may explain why I have little recollection of the matter, there is also the possibility that during this lesson I was day dreaming, as I did on a regular basis during my school days.
Anything I may have gleaned about the incubation of farm animals would have been learned from watching episodes of the popular television programme, “All creatures great and small,” based on the memoirs and written by James Herriot, a country vet in Yorkshire in the 1930’s and his partners in the veterinarian practice, Tristran and Seigfried Farnon. Unfortunately there seem to have been far too many episodes where James Herriot had his arm up a cows rear end which tended to distract from any meaningful dialogue which may have explained the process of reproduction.
As you may be able to tell I try to steer clear of any involvement with animal poo if at all possible hence I am rarely called upon to have any dealing with our daughter’s horses, although sometimes if she is really stuck she will ask us to go and feed them for her. Now she has horses of both sexes and sometimes the large male can get himself aroused and attempt to mount the female, such that any woman of a nervous disposition would have to avert her eyes. Even as a fairly stoic male I have to admit, it gives new meaning to the phrase, “careful with that thing, you’ll have someone’s eye out.”
Well I think that’s more than enough to prove to you dear reader how little I know of the insemination or incubation of farm animals and if it involves any contact with poo, I’m more than happy for it remain that way.