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Forest Hill Farmboy

Today's post is written by Cookie. We were going through old pictures and I asked him to write about growing up on a farm. Here's what he came up with, enjoy.

Cookie, the prankster at 8
Cookie, the prankster at 8


I was eight years old when I first did it. I unplugged the electric fence and waited for something to try and crawl under it. Then I jammed the plug back into the socket. Off yelped a dog, blasted by a pulse of electricity. I was a deranged eight year old, mad with power, using an electric fence to terrify whoever was unfortunate enough to cross his path. My friend David got zapped several times, he always forgave me.

 The fence was four rails made of wood with three strands of electric wire; one at the bottom, second rail, and one strand along the top. My shocking spree lasted several weeks. It was sporadic and unpredictable. At random I’d strike. Dogs, pigs, goats, horses, brothers, or friends were all fair game.

 Then I saw it. The big score. The one to go out with.

It was a frosty morning and the fence needed to be fixed. My dad was on one side, leaning over to reach something across from him. At this point both my parents were blissfully unaware of my newfound hobby, or so I thought. As such, they charged me with unplugging the fence and making sure that it stayed off until my dad was done.

Old habits die hard. In went the plug. Profanity ensued from my father. The deed was done.

Days passed and nothing happened. I was a free man. My alibi of “the wind must have plugged it back in” had seemed to hold up. No one was the wiser. While I hadn’t struck since, I was planning to. In fact, I had unplugged the fence and was sitting on top of it, contemplating when and where to strike next. Shocking people was fun, and I doubted it even hurt that much. Personally I’d never been zapped, but it couldn’t be that bad. Atop the fence I sat, blissfully unaware that I made a perfect target for anyone out for revenge. My mom, intent on teaching me a lesson about mischievous boys, entered the barn behind me.

I was wrong about how bad getting shocked was. When it happened I was taken by complete surprise. If there’s anything worse than sitting on an electrified wire, I’ve never experienced it. Immediately I regretted all my past electrocutions.

From that day forth I've never played with the fencer. Everyone on the farm has been safe from getting an electrical shock from me.

"Good Judgement comes from experience, and experience - well, that comes from poor judgement". -Unknown



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