OPINION? EVERYBODY HAS ONE! A lesson on being bullheaded

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

This is one of the days I live for, to go out and gather cattle that are part mine and part my neighbor’s and both of the so named bulls fighting for rights to father all the cattle in the world.

I would like to say I am accustomed and enjoy the work cut out for me this morning but I would be lying and I don’t want to do that!

I woke to the sound of bellering cattle right under the window and a truck revving up in my driveway. Then before I could really get my head to experience it all, the pounding on the door made me hop to it. The neighbor was grinning and his red nose told me he had been out in it for awhile. He said he would block the drive while he waited on me to get dressed.

We got the two herds penned and that was easy enough. Getting them separated was the task for which a cowboy was needed. The bulls, three of mine and two of his, were so dad gummed fat and fast we knew not to get in amongst them. I saddled Snip and eased into the big pen. We finally got the five of them in the alley and headed the right direction.

It is imperative to get the heads all going the same way in case you are wondering, and that is not exactly what bulls want to do.

We turned mine one direction and his toward a trailer gate we had rigged up into which to load his. We wired a panel and chained it to a trailer, chained it to the chute and prayed for it to hold. His cattle are noted for being disagreeable and they were all frothing by the time we got them in the alley.

My bull was first in line and he was ready to get the heck out of Dodge.But as soon as he got out, he turned around and talked to the others. Then one of the other bulls came up and we got him into the trailer. Two of mine came next and we turned them out without any trouble. They found a way to fuss with each other, leaving just one of his in the chute.

All looked good for a second and then the one that was loaded - past tense, was - came back and into the chute going the wrong direction. And, as I said, they all need their heads pointed one way. He knocked the last bull over the iron rod we were using for a stop gap, turned him up on his back and beat the heckout of him with his head. I felt sorry for the downed bull until he arose and began his thumping of the crazed one.

I have seen lots of bull scrambles, but this was one for the books. They had bloodied noses and had slung snot and stuff all over an acre of pens by the time one finally gave up.

I was ready to run for cover, hoping the steel pipes would hold each time one of them hit and, thank the good Lord, they did hold.

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, getting along with each other is an important part of living. The fighting bulls reminded me of two countries, fighting for what, a piece of dirt or a little more dirt in a certain place? When they finally get it all said and done, bloodied noses and bruised bodies are some of the better results.

Poor old Snip was wet all over and I was worked to a nub by the time the ordeal was over. But we were thankful it was done without any injury to either one of us. The neighbor and I shook hands and hoped we would never have to do this over!

This is the time of year to really think about peace and goodwill toward others - I sure hope you will - and do keep the bulls separated and at home!

Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.

Opinion, Pages 6 on 12/08/2010