"What happened to your pickup seat? Is that buffalo track?"
Well, I guess you had to be there. We had a cow attack.
It all began when me and Roy went out to check the cows.
We'd finished lunch and watched our 'soap' and forced ourselves to rouse.
We's pokin' through the heavy bunch for calves to tag and check.
I spotted one but his ol' mom was bowin' up her neck.
She pawed the ground and swung her head a'slingin' froth and spit
Then bellered like a wounded bull. 'Say, Roy,' I says, 'let's quit!'
But Roy was bent on taggin' him and thought to make a grab.
'Just drive up there beside the calf, I'll pull him in the cab.'
Oh, great. Another stroke of genius, of cowboy derring do.
Shur nuf when Roy nabbed the calf, his mama came in too.
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