So, you think you're going to get a story about a couple kissing under the mistletoe.
How on Earth a parasitic plant that slowly kills its tree host, that is also super toxic, ever ended up as a symbol of romance is one heck of snow job.
I've despised having to look at it around the barn... and not because I'm unromantic!
The small berries are most toxic, albeit apparently unpalatable, yet easily ingested by accident when grazing.
Just ask Henry.
He's not doing well. His 31 year old kidneys aren't up to the challenge. Kidney failure entails lack of appetite and since he's in hospice care...
he gets whatever he wants:
We've had to get creative.
Uncle Henry is the sweetest horse in the barn. This mean war.
Death to the infidel mistletoe!!! Hall's Tree Service answered my mayday. The only tree service I've ever used and the one I've recommended since my landscaping days. These are the best guys in the business.
Two days of hand collecting all the twigs and bits of mistletoe from the pastures and it was ready to be vacuumed.
Don't you vacuum your fields? Why not?
Sucking up every last leaf of the blasted murderer. I'm still hacking up dust balls and my eyes feel like they have kitty litter in them, but it was worth it.
This one's for you Uncle Henry.