Friday, February 25, 2005

Steadfast Plastic Articulated Man




One of Jasmine's favorite games is to find ways to get outside the fence. We repair the fence, then she finds (or creates) another place to get out. We fix the fence again, and so on.

She loves getting into the neighbors' garbage, which they conveniently leave lying all over the ground.

I figure that they are going with the old rural concept of a burn barrel, only without all the fuss of an actual barrel.

The neighbors' kids must have too many toys, because they leave a lot of them outside. If it rains, they get washed into the ditch and float down towards our place. Finders keepers, says Jasmine.

The man was already this far gone by the time I found him in the yard. It reminded me of the Hans Christian Andersen story about The Steadfast Tin Soldier.

I couldn't help but wonder if there had been a Weeble out there who loved him, who sang "Farewell, farewell, O warrior brave, Nobody can from Death thee save" as he was being washed away to sharp dog teeth.

6 comments:

MissBossyPants said...

Oh, we have a collection of toys destroyed by weather and neighborhood cats. My husband hit a Power Ranger with the lawn mower once, and it wasn't pretty!

Eva said...

Thanks for the laugh! Your posting brought to mind a really sappy song from my youth, but I can't remember the title. It will haunt me all day :-) Little Boy Blue, perhaps?

Rurality said...

Dusti I think my favorite is an old VW Beetle Hotwheels-type car that was half-buried in the dirt. Still works great!

Eva, thanks. Well now I've got the song "Little Boy Sad" in my head (as sung by The Gants), but that probably wasn't what you were going for. :)

sugarcreekfarm said...

(Warning, I'm about to tell kind of a gross story.)

Reminds me of when we first moved to this farm and we had our first Pyr, Ivan. We never tied him up because at that time guy-who-hates-dogs didn't live next door, all the other neighbors at that time loved him.

Ivan would visit each neighboring farm every day and he started bringing home dead baby pigs. We didn't think much of it at first, just figured the neighbor had some that got laid on or whatever and threw them over the fence.

But as time went on the pigs Ivan brought home were getting bigger and bigger. I never actually saw him coming up the road with one, but I can imagine what a sight that was and I wonder what people who did see him thought.

It got to the point that these pigs were probably 40 pounders. One day he had one that had twine string tied to its back leg, and I was like "Oh, that's how he's getting them home."

I couldn't believe a Pyr would be killing livestock, but I told Matt he'd better go talk to the neighbors and offer to reimburse them if Ivan really was killing these pigs.

He went down there and the neighbors had a good laugh. Apparently these people aren't very good pig farmers for they were indeed all ones that had died and been thrown over the fence (or dragged with twine string). They knew where the pigs had been disappearing to and they didn't care. I, on the other hand, took to strapping a pitch fork to the lawn mower in order to move pig carci out of the way when mowing the lawn.

The things we do for these mutts.

Rurality said...

Kelli, Don't you just love country neighbors, LOL.

jenni said...

LOL! That's so funny.