One Mean Ole Cow

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One Mean Ole Cow

Welcome to Christianity Oasis. This is One Mean Ole Cow from our Sojourn With Luz Leigh Collection. We hope you enjoy this enlightening reading and it helps you on your own be-YOU-tiful Christian walk.

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Sojourn With Luz Leigh

One Mean Ole Cow

Written by Luz Leigh - 12 January 2010

Let me warn you. This story might not be for the faint of heart, but it is a true story, told to me by an older gentleman who lived in an era when things were different. As I sat on top of the hill, surrounded by the sounds of nature ... a few crows cawing off in the distance and an occasional bellowing of a cow ... I closed my eyes and listened as the man began his story. Many of the words will seem to be misspelled, but I am writing them as he said them. The gentleman's story begins.

When I came home once from working on the tugboat on the Mississippi River and along the gulf coast, deddy told me he had this ole cow that was givin him hell. She was mean, ornary and he wanted to sell her, but she refused to go in the lot. She had already put my brother off-en his horse when he tried to rope her. The old heifer had hooked at deddy and momma, so things waren't pleasant at home.

I asked deddy would he let me take his two catch-dogs and his horse to see if I could pen her. "Sure," deddy sed, "just take care. She's mean."

After I saddled the horse, I put two ropes on the saddle, turned the dogs out of the pen and off we went. Wutn't long fore the dogs caught sight of the ole heifer and her calf. Calf was 'bout big enough to wean, but deddy couldn't get it away from the mama cow. Soooo, the race was on. He chuckled, remembering.

Now these catch-dogs uf deddy's were mean son-of-a-guns when it came to catching strey cows. When they caught up with her, she headed for a big thicket, dogs right with her. Now, I knew with her being so damn mean, there was no way in hell that I would risk gettin me or the horse hurt, so I just waited. Wouldn't go into the thicket. I could hear the dogs bayin her. Then after a while I realized they wuz aheaded toward me ... so I got my rope ready. Sure 'nuf, here they cum. When I caught sight of that cow, she was bloody around her head ... ears wuz bleeding, tongue wuz bleeding, lips wuz bleeding. See, the dogs, bein catch-dogs did just wut their name implied. They caught the cows ... sometimes on the heels, but mostly around the head.

I had told deddy to bring his truck down to a point and park ... wait for me to holler for his to come closer. You know deddy had these cattle frames on that pickup where he hauled cows in it? Enyhow ... here comes that old heifer. When she got close enough, I slung my rope over her head and real quick ran my horse around a tree that was close. Then I used my second rope to get another one on her. She wutn't goin no where!

I hollered for deddy to bring the truck ... he did ... and there perched on the seat of the truck wuz momma. She wutn't bout to miss the fun.

Deddy opened the tailgate on the truck and begin backing up slow toward that cow. Welllll, she was one mad cow. Real quick like, I unwrapped the rope from round the tree, gave her slack, and as she ran toward deddy's truck (he had got back in the truck and shut the door by now), I rode past her so I could pull her on into the truck. She was so mad by now, she was snortin and bellowin. She jumped up as if to paw at the truck ... when she did I gave a yank on the rope and that heifer fell right into the truck. Chuckles again.

Deddy hopped out of the truck, shut that tailgate fast as greased lightning. I tied one of the ropes to the cattleframe so she couldn't get out.

I sed, "Deddy, what you gonna do with her now?" "Hell, boy, head to Port City with her while we got her loaded." And that's just what we did.

As I sat listening to this old cowboy tell of how he managed to help his "deddy and momma" get rid of that old cow, I was smiling. When he had finished the story, I commented that I bet the dogs would be glad to get back home and rest a bit. He said the dogs didn't go straight home ... they headed for the nearby bayou where they jumped in the water to cool off and get a drink.

The old gentleman has entertained me with many such stories before. He told of his work on the tugboat, as a mechanic in a local shop and several other occupations. I hope when you read the vernacular I used in telling this story that you will not think this man is a backwoods, country bumpkin. We talk that way all the time here where we grew up and live.

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