Tuesday, March 15, 2011

A tagging story

I've been told this story, starring myself, for as long as I can remember. I heard it again this weekend, and thought I would pass it on to a new audience.
Once, when I was really little (we're talking 2 or 3 years old), I went with my mom to tag calves. I actually went almost every day, regardless of the activity at hand.
I've mentioned some cows are nasty about having their calves tagged, and I mean it. There is no way to explain having a big cow dead set on destroying you to protect her baby. Dealing with these cows is something we put up with, because after their calves get a little older they typically mellow out, and having a protective instinct is a good trait to have in mother cows.
Well, on this particular day my mom found "that cow," as in the really bad one who would hunt you down, run you over, come back and maul you, if you simply got near her calf, had calved. This was one mean girl, and my mom knew it.
In good ranch wife fashion she got her taggers and book ready, pulled the feed pickup between the already irritated cow and her calf. She then quickly jumped out, grabbed the calf, and drug it under the pickup's flatbed to tag it. At the same time the cow rounded the pickup, bellowing (they're really loud), blowing snot and throwing dirt. She proceeded to try to crawl under the pickup too, and was rocking it pretty good to hear my mom tell it.
Enter me.
In my wise two-year-old prime, I got out of the of the pickup to help, (it must have sounded like she needed it). I walked around, stuck my head under the pickup, and likely began chattering away (I've always been a bit of talker), as this big, loud, mad cow continued to try to tip the pickup over so she could kill my mom and retrieve her baby.
My mother still goes pale at this part of the story, and ironically enough I have no idea if she got the calf tagged that day or not. I do know she was ready to kill me after she found out the cow hadn't.
I made it out without a scratch, from the cow or my mother.
This wasn't the first, or last time, I had such incidents either. It's amazing my mother doesn't have more gray hairs really.

1 comment:

  1. Oh my gosh-that would have taken any mom’s breath away. Bless your heart for wanting help your mama though--how sweet is that :) Big cow tipping truck--not so much.