|The Great Cow Stampede|
I will be the first to admit that ours
are not the most modern cattle pens
nor do they present the safest way of handling cattle. Still, we
have improved our pens to this extent that we have replaced barbed wire and poles
with panels, but still, ours is not the safest facilities for
handling cattle. Then too, my best hand, Lucille has quit on me.
Having said all this, I am leading up to the fact I felt our facilities were, compared to by-gone days, reasonably safe for me to ask my good neighbor, George Bingham, and one of my most favorite son-in-laws, Derwin Isham, to help me round up and market a few of my gentle Angus cattle to thin out our herd.
Everything was working fine to the best of my somewhat confused recollection. I think we had four cows and possibly one bull (all gentle Angus) loaded and went back to round up some more. Now here my recollection of what transpired may be just a little vague. I think while George Bingham was keeping the ones we had loaded from coming back, Derwin and I brought three more of my gentle cows to finish loading the compartment...or something like that. Now here, I may be just a bit more confused. Seems to me one of my gentle Angus cows turned on me, and in spite of admonitions from George and Derwin for me to give her right of way, she not only knocked me down but also trampled me. In the process of trampling, she planted her right hind leg on my right hind leg and did a peregrinate. Also, I suspect to add insult to my injury, she just might have defecated on me, though it could have been I was already laying in some excrement.
What was George and Derwin doing while all this was gong on? I don't know! I suppose they were doing all anyone could do, screaming at me to "get up and get out of there!" George said I was hollering something like, "Don't let the others out! Let's not let the others out! Let's get the others loaded and get this show on the road!" I don't remember what if anything I said.
Only, I really think while I was knocked out or maybe more incoherent than usual, they must have let the rest of the herd out and they all ran over me as well, and in all the excitement, George and Derwin didn't notice. What makes me think this, with all respect to Derwin and George, I don't see how just one gentle Angus cow could have done all that damage to me. But let me hastily add, I was most fortunate to have my good neighbor and one of my most favorite son-in-laws helping me, otherwise, I could have got kilt.
I should not be critical, but I do wonder with my loading trailer already backed up to the loading chute, why did they have to call an ambulance? The gate was already open, the cows were gone (I suppose by then), why could they have not grabbed me, one on each end, carried me out to the stock trailer and hauled me into town. I do vaguely recall---though I just might have been hallucinating---they took me first to the Comanche Funeral Home and had my good friend Pete Boutross check me out. Pete's verdict: I was not quite dead enough to meet his exacting specifications. Had I been aware of what was going on, would I have asked for a second opinion from Frank Hall? Maybe it was just as well I quit while I was ahead. After all, in the shape I was in, in addition to being inundated with cow excrement, I was somewhat bruised and lacerated. I am glad Dr. Eisenrich didn't send me back for a second opinion. My appreciation to the efforts of Dr. Eisenrich, the nurses who I am sure must have removed some of the extraneous excrement and ministered to me in such a caring way. And I am looking forward to getting George Bingham and Derwin Isham involved again, and also, Lucille next time to see that I stay out of harm's way.
Printed in the Comanche Chief newspaper, Dec. 9, 1999