#I started this knowing what I wanted to say and ended it just yapperin on

[cowboymeemaw]

Why name your livestock?

Why do I, as a farmer who shows and raises terminal (market) stock name them?

I get this question frequently because naming these animals does make it easier to get attached, and harder to let go of. So why do I do it?

Well for a short answer first, they're animals I love. Doesn't matter if it's market or not to me, naming them make others realize they are more than just food.

Take Elton for example.

He is a market barrow, a blue butt light cross who is in my show string. His purpose to me is to show and then sell.

But he not just an object. He is a living breathing creature that I spend all my time caring for. I give him a name because I give him a life.

Before I see the profit I make off these animals, I see the animal itself. I see everything it does and how it acts. I see how giving it a name, in some sense, gives it respect. I respect my stock for living, for providing, and for listening to me (especially in show stock). So when I name them to myself I'm showing I respect this creature for living.

In a less, metaphorical sense I'll say, naming also easily allows for records to be taken. It's the same way others call their stock by tag numbers

[debbstepps]

Oof

I’m drowning in so many story ideas!!!!! I DONT KNOW WHICH ONE TO STAR AS MOST IMPORTANT AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!

so anyway, since I haven't posted anything in a while, I’ll deviate from “Globalization”, and post a few shorts about my other stories I have barely worked on.

Enjoy, I guess. \../

Ps: sorry for any spelling mistakes and choppy writing, wrote this when I was in high school and did only minimal editing.

Once upon a time there was a very handsome adolescent.

And this handsome, stupid adolescent, lived in a palace, for he was a prince.

In this palace, where the handsome, stupid, lazy, adolescent lived, there was his mother, the Queen, the father, the King, and his younger brother and sister, which were twins, which were the prince and princess.

There were also the servants, maids, hand maids, butlers, kitchen staff, knights, guards, cleaning staff, stable staff for the horses, and the royal pets.

There were many other kingdoms that this narrator barely knows of. Which the prince, barely thinks about.  The kingdom, which the handsome, stupid, lazy, unkept, adolescent dwells in, is the center (somewhat) and the most productive out of all the other kingdoms round about it. Very agricultural, conservative, religious, with every person looking out for the other.

There were forests, swamps, rivers, lakes, and ponds, a variety of wild animals which rarely attack the commoners, and other stuff which this narrator knows a lot about, but is too lazy to explain.

More details of the kingdom will come later, when the handsome, stupid, lazy, unkept, ridiculous, adolescent, does the unthinkable.

But back to the story…..

This adolescent was the next heir to the throne, but he could care less.

Sometimes this adolescent would pull pranks on the royal subjects for the sake of it because he was “sooo” bored. I mean, how could his parents subject him to such boredom? Math, physics, chemistry, English, biology, sociology, hieroglyphics, the list can go on! He couldn’t even play and have fun like the rest of his mates. Not like he had any.

“It just wasn’t fair” the snotty prince yelled to his butler.

“Why can’t I have a normal life like everyone else!?” he yells some more.

I internally sigh. Can he get even more spoiled? Anymore annoying? I mean, royalty and all, but really? If he really wanted to get back at his parents for breathing riches into his nostrils, he could give all he had to the poor. But then he’ll just say that it isn’t worth it. OKAY THEN, is what I would’ve said.

“How about this?” I suggest to him, earning his interest.

“How about I take you into the city to explore? Of course, I’ll have to accompany you because I don’t think you know how to brush your teeth by yourself” I say as a joke. The prince took it in another way.

“REALLY!!??” he exclaimed, “So I’ll get to visit my friends and meet new people- OH, I’ll even get to meet the priest and tell him how I really feel about his teachings instead of lying to his face- heck, I’ll get to lie in everyone’s faces.. HAHAHA”, he begins laughing more to the room than to himself, and I begin counting down the days of my death.

“Before we set off, prince, we’ll need to carry some luggage. Money, clothes, more money, soap, sponges, toothbrush….. more money, some garments for when it gets cold at night, and a hat to block the sun from your eyes….. and even more money” I start counting off the things on my fingers. I sneak a quick glance at the prince and behold, he’s staring out the balcony like a Disney princess, wondering when will his life begin.

I sigh, heavily.

Surely this wasn’t in the job description when I applied to this post. I mean, a butler was meant to attend to his master's needs, but this!? I feel like I’m babysitting a grown five your old.

“Butler, we mustn’t tell Father or Mother, or they’ll kill me gracefully, and murder you brutally” he whispers in a sing-song voice. Why does he sound happy?

“Of course your highness, I will make sure all the other staff, which you have taunted, will exercise self-control, and will try not to tell the king and queen that you have momentarily run away to seek vain freedom”.

The prince grins widely like he had not sensed the sarcasm dripping from my every word. I worry about his social skills in the outside world.

I check the time on my watch and tell the prince to start packing so we can have an early start in the morning. He nods his head before skipping to his closet. I watch him take out a feathery hat with weird designs and see him throw it in the pile of clothes he might consider taking with him on the trip. My worries intensify.

I steadily close the doors to his room and begin walking down the hallway. I look at all the paintings that are on the wall. Paintings of the royal family and their lineage, others of famous men who fought bravely in battles and wars, of woman who, when they had life and death in palms of their hands, decided to let most of the soldiers live, and many more.

My mind wanders. I begin reminiscing those days before I became the royal prince’s personal butler.  It’s remarkable what can happen to you within 6 months of work. 6 months ago, I was on a job hunt, trying to find whoever can hire a scrawny teenager like myself. Although I knew that not many citizens in this kingdom can rely, or even trust on a teenager, let alone a black teenager, they should have at least considered.

Well, that’s what I would’ve said if I was still looking for a job, but now I’m glad that all those useless people turned me down. I have a job in the palace now. One they can never have, even if they tried hard enough.

I enter the staff resting room, where most of the maids and servants have come to relax, dreading the moment their masters will call them up. I bow slightly to them. They are my elders, even if I am in a higher position than them. They nod their heads in return.

The resting room is, surprisingly, spacious. A rectangular, stainless-steel table, is in the center of the room. Wooden chairs with cushions are stabled on either side of it. There is a gas cooker on the far end of the room, with tea and other personal refreshments. Brought in by the servants themselves. The floor is made of marble, one a commoner could hardly afford. I still find myself tip-toeing across it when I enter, careful not to leave marks or dirt.  Sometimes, the Queen stumbles down here (and I say stumble because it’s once in a green moon that she does) to bring in some biscuits and teas from expensive stores. She thinks we are cut off from the outside world and such and have no idea what she does.

Silly Queen. Isn’t it from the outside world that you brought us from?

“Oh, are you on your mini break?” Shianne, one of the maids ask me.  She has a caramel skin color, with bright brown eyes and curly eyelashes. Her hair was put into a big bun, quite messy looking too. She’s only two years older than me, but is married and has two kids. I’m still wondering why she married so young. Or how she does it.

“Well, after I saw my master pick out a horrendous hat to take with him on a trip, I’ve exiled myself, so I can still be called his butler” a hint of amusement evident in my voice.

The staff snicker at my remark, and I smile inside. I go and sit down near one of the dishwashing boys.

“Good day,” I greet.

“Good evening to you too,” one of them says smiling, “What is this trip the young highness is going to?” he whispers. The vents must carry a lot of noise, or, the highness is disgracefully loud.

“Well, this trip is to destroy his ego and get him off his high-horse, I presume. In reality, he says he’s bored and wants to do things that commoners do” I whisper smugly. By this time, all the boys are huddled around me, like I’m telling them the prince’s newest nightmare. Which, by the way, is what I do often when I have time to spare at the end of the day.

“Do the King and Queen know?” one asks.

“And what about the rest of the staff? The guards especially” another says.

“And who’s gonna cover for you? Certainly not I” a haughty voice jeers. I turn to the owner of it. Nelipot. Short cropped hair with an olive complexion. His caramel eyes hinted disdain. He had an overpowering aura surrounding him and we didn’t really get off on the right foot. I gave him a shrug.

“That isn’t my proble-“

“Oh yes it is!” he shout-whispers, if that makes sense.

“What happens if you two get caught wonderin’ in the middle of the night, and the king and queen ask where you’ve been goin’ to?” He pauses, wanting to let his words sink in before continuing (I made sure his words did not sink in),

“Sure, you might say the prince suggested it, oh- but wait- YOU suggested it did you not!? Then they’ll ask if something is wrong with your head. Why you kept it all hushed and such,” his bulgy arms cross over his chest as he stares down at me like I’ve been warned.

I have been warned.

I cannot care less.

I stand up from my spot on the bench when someone tugs at the hem of my suit jacket. I turn to see who is tugging on me, and I peer down at the dark-skinned, blonde haired boy. He’s one of the younger dishwashers. Caring to the breakfast, lunch, and dinner plates of the palace, and cleaning up after formal gatherings held in the ballroom. He’s only been here for two months but has already become the princess’s favorite. Probably because of his appearance.

His big green eyes stare up at me. Warning me, cautioning me about the trip the prince and I have unofficially planned. I bend a little, making sure our eyes are leveled, smile gently, and take his hands in mine.

“Don’t worry Chip, we will arrive at the village safely, even if the prince might make a show of it, and we’ll come back to the palace in one piece, though with a few scratches and bruises” I assure him. He smiles slightly at my intended humor.

“Well, I know. But with everythin’ Neli kept yapperin’ about, can’t help but worry… yah know?” his voice barely audible. I am sure going to miss his sanity when I’m away.

He wasn’t one for yelling or shouting, but when you do catch him doing such, just know its not for the better.

“Yeah, just ignore him. He thinks he’s boss, working in the palace earlier than all of us, but his words will mean nothing if he dares speak to the prince in such manner. Besides, I’m the royal Highness’s’ butler, anything he says or does, I have to follow, no matter how stupid it may be” I place my hand on his shoulder as a gesture of comfort, “Don’t worry, his plan will go up in flames and will be nothing but ruins” I don’t say in a matter-of-fact tone because everyone knows the prince always got his way. This won’t be any different.

He nods his head in understanding and stands up to attend other duties, probably to keep himself from worrying.

I stand to my full height and see the rest of the young men staring at me. Nelipot glares before retreating to wherever. I hope it’s the underworld.

Having realized that my break is over (wasted over people who worry too much), I go back the way I came, taking a different route this time because I don’t want to see the hopeless prince just yet.

Heaven must know what he’s doing, or packing.

I walk up the stone stairwell and enter a long corridor. Glass windows reflect the setting sun on the horizon. I begin to walk slowly, taking in the view.

The world looks so peaceful when viewed from big, glassy, windows.

“Indeed it does”, a voice says.

I stop in my tracks and turn my head to where the voice came from.

The King.

Did I say that out loud!!!?

Oh heavens above. Oh Marry, mother of Jesus. Oh good Lucifer, sent from hell. Oh mount Zion. Oh-

(When in troubles, you could always count on the bible)

“Your Majesty” I bow.

“Oh, don’t do that, it could result in back failure”, he raises me from my bowing stance and stands next to me.

I dare not look him in the eye.

“the sunset looks lovely this evening, almost giving us a last farewell, before something devastating happens”, the king mentions.

I flinch. I feel ants crawling all over me.

The damn vents must’ve carried the prince’s obnoxiously loud voice, all over the bloody palace.

“Jonathan,” the king says.

I finally look him in the eyes. His ocean blue irises never ceased to amaze me. He looks very young, acts very mature (with a playful side), and talks like one of the elders. No one can compare the first-born prince, heir to the throne, to his father. At least that’s what I think.

“Yes, your majesty?” I try not to show fear.  

“Promise me that you’ll take care of my son, won't you? I know he can be a handful, a mouthful, and two-hands-full, but he is someone to admire, when he doesn’t speak like a spoiled dog” the King addresses.

My mouth hangs agape. He begins to laugh.

Maybe it was my shocked expression plastered all over my face. Maybe it was the-

No, it was just that.

“Jonathan, you act as if my choice of words against my son could’ve killed him. But you, you’ve been holding back so many gruesome words you would’ve used against him. I applaud your self-control.” He pats me on the shoulder before walking towards the way I had come from.

I stand there, flabbergasted, shocked, dumbfounded. Paralyzed would befit my posture.

Had I been an open book? Were my expressions so easily read? Does the prince know about my speech towards him? Oh hell, I’m in a nutcracker.

I begin to head to the prince’s room, hastily.

I wonder if he knew all along? Why hadn’t he dismissed me yet? Is he looking down on me?

I am standing near the prince’s bedside. He is currently in the bathroom, cleaning himself.

I stand aloof, thoughts holding races in my head. I stare down at my feet, feeling my eyesight becoming hazy and my mind losing consciousness.

Well, that’s what it feels like anyways.

Two fingers snap in front of my face, and I jump. Well, more like take a step back.

“Your Highness, I was just… uh just” I start tripping over my own words.

“Butler, whatever is the matter? Oh, did you have a run in with my father? You do realize that he is human right? No matter the status or role he is playing,” he shakes his head lightly, “all you servants and maids and such should always remember that”, he pats my shoulder before dragging himself to his bed.

I don’t do much, except internally scream.

Watching the young highness climb into bed to sleep, well, try to sleep, puts my thought at ease. I don’t have to see his face.

“Butler?” he calls out from underneath the covers.

“Yes?” I respond in a hushed voice. The silence in the room Is deafening. You’d think I would be used to this by now, having worked here for 6 months, but no.

“Tell me, when are we going to vacate this dreaded room and explore the unknown?” his voice muffled by the duvets.

“Hmm, all in due time, I suppose. Or whenever you feel like it”

“This is not fair. Shouldn’t you say yes to everything I say and ask of you?”

“Well, if everything you say and ask of me is stupid, I wouldn’t really say yes”

“Did you just call me stupid?”

“I called you numbness of mind and knowledge”

“That’s the same thing”

“I suppose”

The room goes quiet again. I can feel the prince’s eyes on me, staring.

I look to where the prince is, and lo and behold, he is staring at me.

His eyes are like his fathers. Ocean blue. Crystal blue. Piercing blue. Looking at me.

Boring holes into me. I stare back at him. My own, forest green eyes. They hold contempt, while the prince, mischievousness.

We hold this gaze for what seems to be like eternity.

“What are you staring at butler?”

“Someone who might make my hair turn gray faster than my age can manage” I retort.

The prince burst into laughter. I grin and take a bow.

The rest of the night resembles a baby smiling in its sleep, for no apparent reason.