Monday, October 22, 2012

Baxter Black: Russell, Pirate the cow put on a show

Russell normally would not have kept the heifer he called “The Pirate,” but he did.

It was one of those chilly 5:30 spring mornings in southeast Idaho. He decided to make a quick heifer-check before he got his youngest child on the school bus at 6:30 a.m. Russ slipped into his handy fashion farm-wear (sweat pants, heavy long-sleeve T-shirt and slip-on boots), and drove down to the calving pasture.

Dang! Sure ’nuf there was a heifer down in a low spot on her back and bloated. Russ debouched the truck and walked over to her. She was showing no movement so he gave her a swift kick with his mucky boot. She fired right back and kicked him midthigh!

Through teary eyes he recognized the half-crazy, one-eyed witch, The Pirate. Two little cloven hooves were sticking out from under her tail.

She lay right in the open gate of the panel alley that led to the calving pen. With the innovative genius often found in farmers, he put a catch rope around her neck, ran it through the last panel, took two wraps around the front tow-hook on the truck, and held the slack with his left arm out the window. The plan was to pull Pirate far enough forward for him to jump out and close the gate.

As Russ told me, “I just love it when a plan comes together!”

He backed up. She popped up. He leaped out and raced for the gate, grasping his sagging industrial sweat pants with one hand, and hefted the gate closed with the other.

She turned and charged. It was a mighty crash.

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