Bastard iguanas

Today after work we put on our big-girl panties (mine are very big indeed) and drove to the barn to address the iguana problem. The iguana problem is that it's nearly September, and they have not been sheared.

I'd like to take a moment here and say that I am not the one who wanted alpacas. Or goats. Let's make that clear.

So we've done battle with these two creatures before, and won. Pretty much. And we learned from our mistakes. I'm an expert now, having watched shearing videos on YouTube. And I have a cunning plan.

Note the green spit spray above his head.

I pick a corner where the little lean-to meets the side of the barn, and sink a big eye bolt. So we've got an inside corner with a wooden wall on one side and metal siding on the other. Two solid surfaces. C. catches Apollo or Appalling, as he is known now, and we hook him to the lead and run the lead through the eye bolt. So there he is, head held high in the corner where he can't spit on us. And we're in the middle area, pushing him against one of the walls and snipping away at his fuzz. This isn't so bad.

He's pissed and shoots green spit all over the corner, but can't get us. Neener neener. I have the lead so I can pull his head up tighter or loosen it if he wants to lay down. And I lean my powerful? massive? thigh into his side to keep him against the wall. He's fine. We're not hurting him, we're just making him do things he doesn't want to do.

And he goes absolutely apeshit, throws himself back and forth and up and down, tries to climb the wall, kick us, crush us against the walls. He's 150 pounds of hairy asshole gone berserk. We ride it out. He stands back up and catches his breath for about 30 seconds before trying it again. And again. And again. We finally give up. His neck is half naked, his side has some chunks missing, and his foot is bleeding from catching a screw on the metal wall.

What a spoiled brat.

We're bringing in some muscle, and we will shear him.