WESTSIDE — OK, I can handle part of the blame but, just so you know, I was not the only cattleman praying for rain!

We were all dry as the powder on a baby’s bottom and we called for a special group prayer for rain. He did deliver and we just have to be thankful, but we did not specify how much! I believe this helped the water level in the lakes and the aquifer too.

I have a neighbor that lost a calving cow in the woods. I don’t mean she died; she just couldn’t be found. The feller said he could see one foot and she took off to the woods and he looked till dark. Did I suppose I could saddle a horse and help him out and, of course, I said I would.

It was not the idea to get Snip a little too stocky. I wanted to feed him to keep him in good shape so I did. I wanted to feed him a little extra in winter to keep him warm and so I did. My close relative decided to give Snip a little something when she passed the lot a few times a week so she did. Now Snip is slightly overweight and we are both pretty soft. Well fed and happy but, yes, a little soft.

I hauled us to the pasture and unloaded at the edge of the woods. All the little indentions were running like spring-fed streams. When I tightened the girth, Snip grunted and blew up some more, making his belly look sorta like a hot air balloon. I walked him around a bit and re-jerked the latigo, stepped him a couple more and mounted.

I said that easy, but I grunted too. Winter has added a layer on this old body and I had to heist my britches to make room for stepping in the stirrup.Dang, old age and biscuits are sure hard on a feller.

Snip worked his way between brush and trees and up the hill into the thicker stuff. I wonder why so many old cows aren’t smart enough to come to the lot for help instead of taking off to the outback. About the same instant of that thought, gravel started sliding under hoof and we, both man and mount, began scuffling around to get on firmer ground. The soaked ground kept oncrumbling and Snip continued to climb. Seemed like it took us about an hour to get to firm ground, but I guess it was maybe a minute. Snip was sweating and I was pulling leather when we got stopped.

I just sat still and rubbed old Snip’s neck for a couple seconds and, then looking up, was face to face with a big roan cow and a very small calf giving me the bug eyes! Mission completed; I knew we could do it. Sure I did! Never a doubt in my mind, except for the hour we were sliding down the hill!

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, I have endangered my life more than once for a bovine and it just ain’t smart! If you come across a time you could wait for a couple hours or get some assistance for a cowboy job, take the opportunity. Many a smart man got in a hurry and met St. Peter before sundown! Slow and thoughtful smart fellers are apt to be on St. Peter’s waiting list much longer.

Snip and I got home OK and, yep, I gave him a treat for getting us safely out of the timber, then went in and had a slab of peach pie! No time for dieting today!

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

Opinion, Pages 6 on 05/04/2011