The Line Has Been Crossed

I'll do a lot of things for my husband, but there are a few things that I just won't have anything to do with.  Last night, he crossed one of those lines in the sand when he came home covered in afterbirth, poop, and who knows what all else.
It was nine o'clock, and I was making supper when he arrived home.  I knew from a previous text message that the day had not gone well, and that they'd had to pull a calf from a cow that was brought in from another ranch and was not the calm, easy-going type we keep around.  I did not realize what he would look like until he walked in.
The calf was backwards so they had to hook the calf pullers (chains and a bar that hook to the calf and then it's pulled out by force). This cow did not want to be cornered and helped.  She took off across the pasture, escaping every time they tried to herd her in.  When they did get her surrounded and tried hooking up the equipment, she decided to take Brian as he was in her way to freedom.  Her long horns and glistening hooves headed straight for him.  Realizing she was not stopping, he dove to the side but was slogged down by mud and manure.  Thankfully she just wanted by and did not hurt him other than stepping on the back of his leg pushing it further into the smelly muck.
Once they finally had the calf on the ground my lovely husband had to pick it up to get the fluid out of it's lungs because it was not breathing correctly.  In the process, he became covered in afterbirth.
I immediately sent him to the shower, and I hear the burn barrel calling those clothes. Disgusting!!!!!