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Funny and true but serious

Big Dog

Large Member
Staff member
GOLD Site Supporter
I have a good friend (journalism major) who has a knack for writing fiction based on true stories with a humorous flare. I've read a bunch of his stuff and as he calls it "Working on the Great American Novel".............He's a true Texan and I hope he doesn't write about EVERYTHING he's seen...........:yum:

Here's a excerpt of his latest.............

Bad Cow Blues
The two cows had been doing badly for some time. The Brahma was a fairly
young cow to have gone down so quickly. Scrawny to the rib showing stage,
she just didn't seem to eat. Carl T wanted to check her teeth, but while
she was basically a calm cow, she wasn't that damn calm.

The black cow was old, way past her prime. She had lost 100 pounds when she
should have gained. Worse, she had taken to charging every horse, human or
dog that came in sight. When Raymond fed them, he did so over a high
fence and very, very quickly.

The last time they had worked the cows, they'd penned these two in the big
catch pen next to the red corral. They had enjoyed a steady diet of cubes
and sorghum grain for a month. Now it was time to see if the remedy had
worked.

Carl T and Raymond, the ranch hand, pulled up to the catch pen in Carl T's
rattlin' ass diesel dually. He had no sooner stopped when the black cow
came running across the pen and rammed her head into the fence with a force
that knocked her down.

" Nope, she ain't no better, " observed Raymond.

They sat there and watched the cow hit the fence two more times before Carl
T put the truck in reverse.

" Let's get the trailer and take these two to the sale barn. The Brahma is
looking pretty good and the black one ain't gonna get no better," Carl said
over his shoulder as he backed up to the trailer.
Getting the cows into the corral was easy. Carl T opened the gate and ran,
then Raymond closed it when the cows trotted through. Carl T decided he
could wear the black cow down pretty easily. She was already weak. So he
stood in the center of the corral and let the cow charge him. Just as the
cow reached him, he stepped to the side and pushed hard with his open palm
against the side of the cows head. Several times he succeeded in knocking
the animal to the ground.
As Raymond recalled later, it was clear from his vantage point atop the
fence that Carl T was ahead for the first 15 minutes. After that the cow
started getting closer and closer. Seeing this, Carl T grabbed her as she
ran by, one hand full of cow nostrils the other full of ear, and twisted her
neck, throwing her on the ground.

As Carl T lay panting on top of the now docile beast, Raymond got down off
the fence and walked over.

" Whatcha gonna do now, big boy?"

" I don't rightly know, " Carl T answered honestly, " but you better get
back up on the fence, 'cause I'm fixing to turn her loose.
"
So Carl T and cow danced around some more. After a bit Carl T decided on a
different tack. Picking up a cedar fence post, he waited for the cow to
charge again. When she did he cracked her right between the uprights with a
blow that propelled fire ants out of the cracks in the cedar post so hard
that were dazed upon impact with the ground.

The black cow dropped to her knees. She sat there a minute, no more, slowly
shaking her head, drooling out the side of her mouth. Staggering she stood
up. And charged. Again Carl T dropped her to her knees. Again she stood
up and charged. Again Carl T made her kneel.

Disgusted Carl T threw the post down and crawled over the fence. He went to
his truck and took out his 870 20 gauge sawed off pump. Loading it up with
7 ½ birdshot, he crawled back into the corral. The cow was going into the
loading chute. If he had to drive her in there by peppering her ass with a
shotgun, then that's the way it would have to be. If that didn't work, the
.44 Mag was under the seat.

With Raymond distracting the black cow's attention by yelling derisive
diversions from the fence, Carl T maneuvered his way behind her. As he was
wrapping the sling around his arm, waiting for the right angle, the Brahma
cow behind him charged. Raymond saw what was happening and started yelling
at Carl to watch out. Of course, Raymond had been yelling all morning for
him to watch out, was in fact at the moment also yelling at and about the
black cow still standing there staggering and slobbering.

At the last moment Carl T caught the gist of Raymond's oratory and turned to
see the Brahma bend her head down and hook him. She caught him on his right
leg just below the knee, sending him somersaulting into the air. Raymond
claims it was a triple gainer, but Carl T, being the modest man that he is,
will only claim credit for 1 ½.

When he hit the ground, the cow Brahma was on him, hooking him in the chest
and gut, rolling him over and over until he was against the fence. Trapped,
with the enraged animal still trying her best to open him up and look
inside, he swung the shotgun, it's sling still wrapped around his arm, and
put the muzzle against her stomach. Closing his eyes, he pulled the
trigger.

Click. Or rather CLICK!! He had neglected to pump the gun and put a round
in the barrel. Carl T realized he was in a situation very strange to him.
He was fresh out of good ideas.

Fortunately, someone else had one. Raymond abandoned the fence, grabbed the
cedar post and started to wail on the cow's other end. Sensing the rear
assault, she turned from Carl T and spun to charge Raymond, a futile effort
since Raymond was already well on his way to the fence, would in fact touch
the ground only once before reaching it.

When the cow got off him, Carl T struggled to his knees. Pumping the 870,
he let fly at the cow's rump. She changed course immediately, went up the
chute and into the trailer. It is possible, had she the required opposable
digits, she would have closed and locked the gate behind her.

Carl T walked painfully to the gate, Raymond helping him make it to his
truck. As they drove off the black cow was still standing in the corral,
staggering and slobbering. They went by direct route to the hospital in
Cameron. Carl T had three broken ribs and a full body bruise that would
turn into many surprising colors in the coming days
.
On the way home, Carl T called Ruben, a working cowboy, to go get the
animals and take them to the sale.

" You might watch that black one, though, " he cautioned Ruben, " She's a
mite frisky. "
 
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