Dear Dad

I recall that you asked me to move the cows that you had strip grazing in the top paddock as you were in the UK fronting a Expo to bring skilled workers to New Zealand.

I remember you telling me in detail more than once as you are aware that calling me after 1600 hours in the week or after 1000 hours in the weekend will find me cognitively altered by cheap whisky and beer.

I got to your house and found the mower and trailer already in place in garage with several items on it - bale of hay, (that's right half to the sheep), ear muffs, and a funny looking contraption that after 12 minutes I worked out was a volt meter - I never would have thought to use this to test the electric fence and so again knew you had me in mind when designing this project.

I got to where the cows were and had a long look at the long horns on the Highland cattle and thought about kebabs. I saw the strip grazing had worked well and they were looking favourably at me no doubt coming to the conclusion I was you, but younger and uglier, one came close but smelt the alcohol and backed off.

Now I had fleeting memories that you wanted me to let them through the line and then re-establish it around the perimeter to keep them away from the Elm trees. I saw this would take some movement of line and had a brilliant idea - drop the line, let them through, raise the line and leave them to it. No need for walking all around the paddock and up and down the precarious hill.

You can imagine I felt pretty pleased with myself so off I went to move the sheep into the bottom three paddocks.

Sheep are stupid animals, if they can find a hole in a fence they will and then berate you when they can't make it back, this is why I don't carry a gun when herding as the SPCA might well fine the living shite out of me.

Sheep are stupid animals, don't drink much from the troughs though.

Cattle do though, they need a lot being the beasts they are.

It was during this thought process that I realised my mistake and why you asked me to move the electric fence to a perimeter fence type situation, I had cut the cattle off from the water source.

I'm a stupid animal.

So back I go with 5 year old Connor beside me rolling through the grass, I go to wind up the line,


BANG.


Fucken electricity.


We go down to the PLASTIC attachment and disconnect, of course the line is live as on the main line which is held down by my line and it rebounds into my wrist,


THUMP.


Fucken electricity.


Things went OK for a while, managed a feat of engineering I equate to the Great Pyramids of Giza, got the line to the top and hooked it up.

Thanks for the volt meter as when I trudged up the hill it registered nothing and when I told Connor to hold it nothing happened, I heard a tick-tick-tick and figured that in absence of a clue I should track this down.

We came to the corner post which was sparking as the plastic was worn and metal showing so electricity not flowing from this point.

Simple, I casually thought, now I'll remove this stake and,


SHAAZAM.


Fucken electricity.


I managed this with two sticks though the current remained strong and I tingled all the way.

I got to the top and used the volt meter which read "Very Good" - I take it this meant the current was very good as my actions hardly warranted such a proclamation.


So Dad -I hope the Elm's are OK, there is a new little baby lamb (per Andrew), no dead sheep, one dead possum (no maggots to come back to, I dropped him down the hole, though he did resist), happy horny cattle and my pace maker has been reset.




Love






The Grey Madness