This past week Bert was considering buying in a few rare breed type cattle to graze in his plantation. He’d been thinking about Dexters but they’re hard to keep in and fencing wouldn’t be one of his strong points. Someone had told him about these Irish Moiled cattle that were grazing at the Ecos centre in Ballymena so we went along to have a look. The word was that the owner might be looking to sell them.
They are lovely cattle Moilies but nevertheless, Clint and I have persuaded Bert that there is no point in rushing into it. As I pointed out to him, he’s not actually had that much luck with beasts that certain folk have chatted him into.
Remember the rabbits Bert? Your mother was raging with you when you landed home with those. Suggested that they’d been palmed off on you by some boy you fell in with at a road-house.
It’s well seen she knows little about pubs if she thinks they’re frequented by boys with pockets full of rabbits.
Remember all those babies they had? Little brown babies got on them by wild buck rabbits that screwed them through the hutch wire.
Aye. We had to take that lot over to Gallaghers and set them free.
Then there was Bob and that palamino from Greenmount.
Bob was a lovely horse.
Aye. He was. But he was useless for riding. Always trying to scrape you off by walking tight up to the hedges. And do you remember how the pair of them kept breaking out? They were always running up and down the Dreen Road with you after them like an eedjit.
And you mind all those boys that kept stopping with me while I was running after them offering to buy the pair of them of me?
And you eventually broke and took a very bad price of the last fellow that asked you. Said they were going to a riding school. I’m sure.
What do you mean?
Far more likely they were going for dog food.
Don’t be depressing me.
Anyway – can you imagine the Moilies? When they’re not racing about the roads they’ll be out getting shagged by the wrong sort of bull. They’ll be a quare rare breed then.