Editor’s Note: We have a new writer trying out a seat on TheWRITEaddiction bandwagon. Arianna Sikorski is a globetrotting “experience hunter” who generously allows us a front row peak into her myriad of adventures. The following is an excerpt from her website http://ariannasikorski.wix.com that has been reprinted with her consent.
July 27, 2014
Working at a beef farm is definitely some messy business. Mucking around takes on a whole new meaning when prying your gumboots loose from a sludgy suction mixture of mud/poo potency day to day. All concentration focuses on one agenda — not falling as you take a dangerous misstep slide across the cattle yard. It is absolutely impossible not to get muddy. If it isn’t flicking up in your face while driving a quad bike (four wheeler) across large lush green paddocks, then it will definitely be smeared across your body from overzealous work dogs panting heavily by your side. For all my Los Angeles dog lovers out there, you may gasp in disapproval at the work dog living conditions. Emphasize “work.” Life is either in a kennel or out herding up cattle with daily bathes taken by rolling and dunking themselves in mud puddles. They do not come inside, they do not wear clothing, they do not get buckled up in a car and they do not get soft beds or a warm fire to keep dry. Their commands are “get out of it” “get behind” and “way back.” “Speak” “shake” or “rollover” are darn right ridiculous requests with maybe a “sit” slightly obeyed while they give you a questioning look of “can I go work now?” But no one can say they aren’t happy. Absolute ecstasy is found…
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