Cattle on the highway, and it really doesn’t make any difference if they are mine or yours, the call came and we all needed to try to prevent a horrific accident.
I dressed and was out the door pretty quick. I could see the blue lights flashing and then the eeriness of the sight made my stomach tighten up. Bad things happen when a black animal is on the road on a dark night and the highway is wet.
Dog was ready and loaded like a flash when I stepped out the door. He had already known that danger was afoot and he had work to do. I could hear Snip snorting and running around the corral. I hoped the cattle on the road were not as snorty.
One patrol car was at the north end of the cattle, holding them south, but there was no one to keep the south end pushed or to warn oncoming traffic. I started down the ditch and, as I passed some of the outlaws, saw a brand I did not recognize. The critters were as wild as they could be and I knew I had to dodge a culvert and a couple ofroad sign posts or end up in trouble myself. Did you ever try to outrun a bunch of silly steers in a ditch? Not my desired way to travel!
I got around the last post and headed off the leader of the bunch and then the headlights hit me in the face. A big rig, loaded down, had just managed to get his speed up after climbing a long grade and I knew he would never make the stop in time. He laid on his air horn, the air brakes and the Jake brakes screamed. A couple of the steers had frozen to the pavement, blinded by the light and terrified too.
Black tire marks ran on forever it seemed and I witnessed the two beeves flying into the air. I could only pray the driver was OK and that the truck wouldn’t jackknife on him. The ditch on the west side of the road was deep and about fifty feet from the fence was a rock wall. Scared me and I ain’t afraid of anything, usually!
That driver was from Louisiana and he was big and he was strong. He must have had 30 years experience underhis belt too because he handled that rig like an expert which I am now positive he is! He squared that truck up and lined that trailer onto the road, shut it down and stepped out. He looked at the front grille and then walked toward me, still nailed down in the seat of my truck, pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his brow.
My heart was beating so hard I could hear it and here came the man who had taken a wild ride walking across the road and he looked steady as a rock. I forced myself to get a grip and hoped my hand didn’t shake when I introduced myself!
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, I was so fortunate to see a non-fatality accident and yet the loss of a couple of 900 pound steers had occurred. At the moment that didn’t seem like much, considering what could have happened.
We got the steers into my pasture and I went home. My close relative had a pot of coffee ready and I was ready for it!
Sometimes even good fences and lots of earnest prayer won’t keep hides penned. I am so very thankful the Louisiana man will be able to sit down for another plate of crawdad gumbo!
Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.
Opinion, Pages 6 on 11/23/2011