Defn: a human male displaying evidence of devolution - exhibits distinctive "caveman-like" tendencies. This man often dribbles in public places; cannot drink a beverage without spilling it on himself, the floor or someone else; may also run into objects like lampposts & bushes; has a definite "sloopish & short legged" running style that is slow and low to the ground, often resulting in the dragging of knuckles.

These throwback neanderthals, along with their questionable diet, should clearly be avoided.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Running with Sheep - New Zealand Tails - Pt 2

I meant to finish this story a long while ago, but didn't.  Part one is here. 

Warning - this is a little graphic.

In summary, sheep escaped, I chased it, never could catch it - didn't expect or plan on it, but the beast died before I could catch it.

I mentioned in part one that I was living at a camp, my Uncle (9 yrs older) was the head honcho.  Was his idea that I take care of the sheep that day.  So, being that practical jokes, payback and tricks on each other was part of life... I decided to try to prank him with the sheep.

The camp had a decent sized kitchen, in the back were storage lockers - similar to what you see in schools where you can hang up coats etc.  It was nearing the end of the day, everyone had left the kitchen and gone their separate ways.  

Don't ask me how I came up with the thought - but here is what I did.

Grabbed a wheelbarrow and rolled the dead sheep into it, wheeled it up to the kitchen and managed to jam the thing into my Uncle's locker.  Took considerable effort to stuff the thing in there.  I set it up so that when my uncle would come in in the morning, when he opened the door of the locker he would be staring face to face with the sheep.

The next morning I was there when my uncle opened the locker door.  Laughter ensued.  He was impressed.  I was too.  It was great.  Sheep propped up staring right at him.

2 things happen to dead animals after a given length of time.  I was not aware of either.

Apparently their bowels release - wow, did they.  I cannot type the word to describe the smell or how it made us feel - doing something like blurphgamoolicyukaa.  The other thing is that rigamortis sets in.  I had a tough time trying to stuff the beast into a locker - I, we, no-one could get the thing out - it had bloated up and got so stiff that it bent the walls and door frame.

After considerable effort, remember we had shorn it the day before so it was slicker than frozen snot still.  Nothing to grab onto.  Finally, we decided to cut it out.  Don't go blurphgamooling on me when you read the next part..... we cut it out with a chainsaw. 

The smell before was nothing.  10, 20, 50 times worse when you chainsaw through a sheeps torso.  This happened well over 20 years ago - I can still smell it, see it in my mind. The beast still torments me.


  1. Awesome. I grew up on a pig farm and thought I had some good stories. Well done sir.

  2. That's.Messed.Up.

    Good recount of the story - probably a prank you wouldn't repeat...