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I used to live way out west (Cunnamulla). A client dropped a mob of live sheep over our front fence on day in lieu of paying a bill. That was OK by me. Another mate taught me the art of slaughtering and butchering sheep. That too was OK. Trouble was I too forgot to keep my fingers out of the way once and took the top off a thumb. Doc sent my wife back home to find the missing bit among the bits of bone and what-have-you from my attempt to cut out the neck chops. She found it and brought it back to the surgery where the doc sewed it back on. It's still there 30 years later. It twitches a bit when I'm near an attractive ewe though.
Peter
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