The Tucson Citizen
Baxter_Black
February 05, 2001
Taking a spin at calving leaves ol' Don all pooped out
THE ROMANTIC COWBOY
There's nothing like an evening of calving to promote the romantic
image of the cowboy. Right, ladies?
Don invited a nice woman out to his ranch one evening for
candlelight, wine and canned bean dip. This dinner date coincided
with calving season. After an hour of civilized conversation about
French paintings, the European Common Market and the condition of the
rodeo arena in Ponoka, Don invited his date to go with him to check
the cows. She didn't exactly squeal with delight, but he explained
how scientific livestock raising had become. "Almost like visiting a
human hospital maternity ward," he said authoritatively.
They drove his Bronco out into the calving pasture and immediately
spotted a braymer cross cow tryin' to calve. "We'll watch her for a
few minutes to see if everything comes out OK," suggested Don sliding
an arm around her shoulders. They sat in the warm cab, moonlight
mixing with Don's elaborate discourse of bovine parturition. After
half an hour he decided to assist the cow. Partly for the cow and
partly to show off.
The calf appeared to be hiplocked.
His date prepared to see modern veterinary procedure save the day.
Don drove up to the head end of the cow and left the headlights
shining in her eyes. Sneaking out, he slipped around behind her. He
slid the nylon obstetrical straps over the calf's protruding front
feet. At first tug the cow arose like a bee-stung buffalo!
She whirled to mash Don. He was jerked off his feet but clung to
the straps as the cow chased him like a dog chasin' its tail! He was
alternately upright, flat out, levitating, scooting, skiing, sliding,
screaming and squirreling as the three of them circled like a shaky
ceiling fan. His only hope of survival was to hang on and stay behind
the helicoptering cow. Even then she managed to land enough blows to
win the round and tromp his fallen hat to a pulp. On one mighty jerk,
the calf popped out. Don executed a complete cartwheel and landed on
his back. The cow rolled him once and headed off in the darkness.
His date, who had watched Don's calving technique from the cab,
was not impressed. "Less than professional," she had commented as he
climbed in the cab after giving the departed cow a four-alarm
cussing.
Don tried to regain his composure and recapture the mood by
explaining that he had been in control the whole time. However, it
was not very convincing what with the big glob of manure plastered on
the side of his neck and the piece of placenta dangling from his ear.
Baxter Black - philosopher, cowboy poet and former large animal
veterinarian - is an occasional contributor to National Public
Radio's Morning Edition, which airs from 5 to 9 a.m. weekdays on KUAZ-
FM (89.1) and KUAZ-AM (1550). He makes his home in Benson.
(C) 2001 The Tucson Citizen. via Bell&Howell Information and Learning Company; All Rights Reserved
