Early morning sounds of cattle in strange and unordinary places bring me to consciousness quickly. I mean early, like just before the first peek of the sun and while I am still getting that really deep sleep. The second I was mentally awake, I knew we had some type of calamity happening.
I opened the back door to a yard full of heifers who were doing the hula in flower beds and fertilizing everything, including the porch. Seeing the door fly open prompted some of the heifers to jump and run out the hole in the fence and, since the driveway was the big enticing empty escape route, they took it! My close relative was there by that time, so I made a run for the pickup and left her to herd the convicts out of her yard.
I got ahead of the lead bovine just before the road and turned the herd back toward the barn. I could see enough by the dawn's early light to know the rest of the bunch were on their way to freedom and you don't know how thankful I was for a good fence on both sides of the drive. Old Dog and I stood off the stampede and turned them back. Let me tell you it was close for a second or two, I had hot breath in my face and I am not as agile as I once was. And to think I once considered raising buffalo!
The gate was bent into a fold and then some, and the post with the fastener was standing there untouched. I couldn't fill the hole with the leftover gate, so I lined the truck up and the only way out was to crawl under. I knew where the panels were, so I got one and wired it up real tight and figured the prison break was over.
As I started toward the house, I looked, then I wished I could not see the mess that was at one time a pretty white plastic fence. I remembered the tender care that had been expended on the lovely flowers and the thick green grass carpeting the entire yard. The fence was misplaced, the yard was different. I am at a loss to describe it fully, and a pitiful close relative of mine was standing there in shock, face pale and lips pursed!
I gathered up the pieces in the driveway and escorted my close relative in the back door. I gently suggested coffee and maybe a little breakfast before I started cleaning up the mess and she did not answer. I believe she had a severe case of shock going on and yet she was able to plug in the coffeepot and move around, so I left her and went on to clean up.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, the best thing to do when disaster strikes is to get nourishment and then call for help! I believe the men and women who furnish the world with good beef can overcome most trials with good hot, strong coffee, two eggs and at least six strips of bacon.
I was drinking my second cup when the offspring arrived and, in complete silence, they both hugged their mom and motioned for me to follow. I gulped the last in my cup and departed the house into the disaster area.
I think a nice chicken coop and a small, fenced chicken yard would go real nice down by the shop.
Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 08/29/2018