Years ago I used to grow the most enormous vegetables in my garden. In fact it was more than a garden because we had a small holding with chickens, goats, sheep and a cow. It was about this of year we used to pull up the carrots and other root vegetables before the early Autumn frosts set in.
One year I bent down to tug on a turnip, but it just would not move. I called to my partner and they wrapped their arms round my waist and tugged too. Two of us were still unable to budge the turnip. The cat saw and sauntered over (as they do) and put its paws round my partner's waist (it was a long, tall cat). Together the three of us pulled, but budge this turnip would not. It was simply enormous.
The dog tried to help. It bounded over (in ways that cats do not) and put its paws round the dog. We pulled. Nothing. Then the sheep joined in, the goat got behind the sheep and the alpaca after that (we did not have an alpaca, but we were grateful anyway) and then finally the cow. We pulled, we tugged, we grasped and we heaved. Yet still the bloody turnip would not come out. Finally, we took some deep breathes for one ultimate massive tug-of-war. But we did not see the little mouse crept out from under the cowshed and take hold of the ow's tail and lend its own tiny frame to pull out the turnip. And it made all the difference. With a creak, a groan and a snap of its tap root, the turnip finally gave way and up it came. With all that pressure the turnip launched up into the air, sending sand and earth clods everywhere, before falling back to earth with a very heavy thud.
The turnip was so large that its impact sent shock waves out across the farm, into the valley, across the nearest town and right into the local police station. They promptly sent out an armed squad to investigate, who encircled our house and garden. It was as we were emerging from our house, arms up in the air, that I failed to remember our back door was a little lower than the standard door-frame size. As my fingernails brushed along the top of the door-frame, the one on my right-hand middle finger caught on a wood knot, bent backwards and really hurt.