and I spent a lot of time there with him. I learned to milk cows by hand and by using the machinery. I knew how much each calf was supposed to get milk. I knew how to train them to drink from the bucket (which is not as easy as it sounds, by the way). I've seen many cows give birth to many calves and one miscarriage that was a lot grosser than the births I saw. I know that a bull has to be nowhere near when you want to fertilize the cows.
So, I was perfectly comfortable around barn animals and could take care of them if the need arose. There was only one problem - a rooster. The hens (and the hated rooster) lived in a barn with the cows and the sheep and the pigs and therefore I couldn't go there alone. The damn thing hated the site of me. Every time I dared to go to the barn alone he was there waiting for me, threatening me. I couldn't even pass the barn alone, unless I was on a bike and had gotten up my speed.
One day the rooster got me. I was passing by the barn and congratulating myself on the fact that the rooster was behind it and therefore unable to get me when, with amazing speed, he came running around the corner and dug his spurs into my back. My scream brought out everyone and I was rid of the rooster fairly quickly. My uncle grabbed a pitchfork and chased the rooster around the barn while my great-aunt took care of the wounds on my back. I don't think they were very bad but I was scared and couldn't stop crying.
Some time later it was time to kill one of the hens because there were people coming to visit and some fancier food was needed. I heard my uncle and aunt discussing the rooster's fate and deciding that he was too old for good meat. So that meant the rooster would keep tormenting me. My brother and I were sent inside so we couldn't see how the killing actually went but we were curious so we were standing there with our noses pressed against the window trying to see as much as possible. We saw a hen brought out, some commotion, wings flapping and it was over. But then my uncle went back to the barn and came back with the rooster. The same commotion and flapping of wings followed and then there was something white flying over the barn roof. "Great! He got away!" I thought and prepared myself for the coming weeks of rooster-terror.
But he hadn't gotten away! Did you know that hens (and roosters) can keep moving after their heads have been chopped off? I didn't, until that day. But I don't think I'll ever be able to forget that particular fact.
The next day a new rooster was brought and he never as much as looked evilly at me. Maybe the rumours get around even in communities as stupid as the hens.
*****
I'm not proud of the reaction I had since I generally hate seeing animals die. I don't think I've wanted one dead since. But I have been thinking of writing about those summers lately and the rooster story was the one I remembered best. But if I continue on the same track then I might just write an entry about my first crush and why the 25th of January in 2005 is going to be a fun day.
*****
I added some links to the sidebar. I should probably do some redesigning of the main page since it seems to get uglier every time I look at it. But that would require some time and I really don't know when that will happen.
The theatre link takes you to the blog, which is only in Estonian since I talk about the plays I've been to see. There's not much point in talking about them in English because they're Estonian plays and the chances that anyone speaking English would be interested are minuscule.
A side note: it's a lot more difficult to write in Estonian than I realized. The first thing I wrote sounded like something I used to write in secondary school. I promise I will try to do better the next time. There's still 'Waiting for Godot' that I would like to write about, and maybe 'The Lieutenant of Inishmore'.
* Officially there were no private entrepreneurs in Soviet Union. Everything belonged to the State and was distributed according to the need. Well, that was the theory - in practice nobody had anything and country relatives came really handy when you needed things like meat or, you know, eggs. Those, and many other things, the stores were supposed to get from state farms where the local people worked for small amounts of money but huge stealing opportunities. It wasn't really a crime to steal from the State, that's how you kept yourself alive; especially since you weren't hurting anyone except the hated State. return to reading
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