More Goat roper memories
I lived on a ranch in Northern Cali, we had sheep (yes I did have my own; Rosebud was her name and she followed me everywhere). We also had chickens, horses, every now and then a pig for slaughter (mmmmm bacon *drool*), dogs and cats too.
There were two dogs, a German Shepherd named Abraham probably the most majestic dog ever born, quiet, laid back, observant. And Prunecake the insane sheepdog.
Yes, Prunecake was truly off his gourd, he barked at rocks never at people, he loved to play fetch but only with rocks not sticks. And Prunecake was in love, deeply, madly and passionately in love. With a ginger haired male cat, I think his name was Oscar. Prunecake would lie and stare lovingly at Oscar, he could lay that way for hours, before slowly approaching the cat and going to town dryhumping him. The cat funnily enough never moved, although he did clutch on to the dirt flattening himself, nails out with a slightly bored look on his face, all the while keeping his butt firmly planted on the ground.
Such were the afternoons on the ranch, nothing much to do but toss big ass rocks up into the air for Prunecake to catch and watch him humping Oscar.
