Monday, May 8, 2017

Drive - A Memoir 107th Installment

Russ had closed the gate, and I had rushed up to help get the chain looped around the pole and the clamp hooked. The bull then ran around and around the perimeter fence burning up excess anger. My heart was still pounding as we finished the milking and the other chores. When we headed to the house, we could still see and hear the monster circling in the pen.
The bull was out again,” Russ told the Old Man. “We got it in the holding pen by the barn.”
Good work,” Vern said. “That’s our best corral, and it should hold him until morning. Then we can figure out something more permanent. I’ve been thinking that wild-eyed bull is more trouble than he’s worth, and I should sell it or kill it.”
Yeah, it’s either him or us you have to sell!” I added. We slept hard that night and got up groggy in the morning, ate our bacon and eggs, and trudged out to do chores. The bull was gone! One side of the holding pen was destroyed. The Old Man had come out, and he was fuming.
Son of a…”he started then looked at us. “I’m going to teach that devil who’s boss.”

I got a call from Amber,” Edith yelled from the house. “The bull is over there, and you need to go help them!” By the time we got there, Ted and his hired men had roped the bull from their horses and had hog tied the beast to a power pole. The usual neat and well-kept white panel fences of Ted’s corrals looked like a war zone.

Ted told us, “During the early morning your bull picked a fight with my bull. When we got out here your Holstein had a twenty foot metal gate on his neck bucking and twisting in circles. The gate panel was knocking down all my corrals, and what the gate didn’t damage, the bull trampled what was left. My bull has run off somewhere. Alfred and I got our horses saddled and after working us to death and the horses to exhaustion, we got the bull tied.”

Can we leave the bull tied up for a few hours while we do milking and repair a suitable enclosure for him?” Vernon asked Ted. “Then, this coming Saturday, the boys and I’ll come and help you put your place back together.”

Crap! The jack rabbit drive was on Saturday. I hardly dared ask--well, maybe I would dare. “The rabbit drive is on Saturday – we wanted to go.”

No,” The Old Man’s one word answer was final.

Ted to the rescue, “Saturday isn’t good for helping me. How about Sunday?”

After the Old Man agreed, all was right with the world. Over the next few hours, we finished the mega–corral we were building with the eight inch poles that came from the log barn
500 more words tomorrow

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