Smokin’ Joe, they’re making it too easy! When I was a young lad, we castrated our yearling bulls with a sharp pocketknife. Cut a slit, pop out the balls, then cut the cords. Blood squirting all over, the bawling of the calves. That was country living. When you fling the balls at a fencepost, they will stick and hang there. By the time we were done with the herd there were hundreds of balls hanging on the fenceposts. It’s an unusual sight.
-Pappy