My cousin is a doer. The problem with a doer is: Sometimes they’re doing good – sometimes they’re doing bad. In my cousin’s case, he generally has no idea what he’s doing.
He was dropped from the clown college program when there was only room for 22 clowns in the car. His ant farm went bust after a big wind came through his back porch. And he had to quit fish farming when they shut down the county pool.
He has now become a taxidermist. Not just taxidermy – organic taxidermy. I asked him, “Why organic?” He said, “Because the government won’t allow me to purchase formaldehyde anymore.” Anymore? I don’t wanna know.
Listen, sometimes I think my cousin chose this occupation so he has someone to chat with. I know Iowa can get a little lonely at times. Some of you are on FarmersOnly, and if you could just give a shout out to my cousin Mark, I would be grateful.
He hasn’t been able to decide on a name for his new business yet, but here’s a few he’s been considering: “From The Window To The Wall Taxidermy,” “I Can Still See You Taxidermy,” “Firmly Mounted Taxidermy” and my favorite: “I’m Stuffed.”
So, people, this is organic taxidermy; the only taxidermy with a shelf life. It looks real, but it also smells real. As a farmer doing taxidermy, he started with chickens. Which is really weird because they just stare at you during supper. The first thing he gave me was clearly a version of me – but as a frog.
Things occasionally would get a little weird. He started putting his work in weird positions and costumes. My poor aunt nearly stroked out when he handed the music director at her church a stuffed replica of the church choir as chipmunks. The organist is a rather large woman, so cousin Mark made her character a guinea pig.
He has started hanging out in front of the veterinary clinic telling customers that for half the price of what they were going to pay inside, he could guarantee that no matter what the diagnosis, they could still take their pet home.
I knew he went over the edge when I received a voice mail at 3:30 a.m. with just three words: jack-a-lope. I tried to stay away for a while, but the neighbors made me go see all the a-lopes he’d been making. He had a donkalope and a turkalope. He even had a giraffealope.
It didn’t look weird. I’m just wondering where he got the giraffe. I read the internet, and I didn’t see anything about a missing giraffe.
My grandpa called me yesterday very concerned about cousin Mark and his new business venture. Apparently, my grandpa has already made his own plans to be cremated within 30 minutes of dying. He’s afraid if cousin Mark has anything to do with it, Grandpa will be in the Christmas nativity scene years after his death. And I quote, “That boy will make a jackass out of me.” 
Tim is a Florida dairy farmer and comedian. Visit him at Tim the Dairy Farmer.
