January 14, 2003
Tuesday - 2:20 pm

You may never need this information but if you do, it can come in very handy. It works the great majority of the time and was taught to me by my uncle, Cactus Curts, a salty old cowboy from Idaho. I had the golden opportunity to try his methods one day in western Oregon as I was driving up Fall Creek road. There were Keith and Richard, out in the corral trying to load a big red bull in the back of Richard's jeep. So, I turned around and came back to lend them a hand. They were both frustrated and covered with various barnyard related substances, leaning on the fence glaring at the bull, which had successfully resisted their attempts to put him in the truck.

The bull seemed quite at ease and was sort of leaning on the fence in a restful posture of indifference. I was anxious to test my uncle's knowledge of loading bulls, so I asked Richard if he was inclined to let me give it a try. He was inclined, so I stepped quietly to the rear section of the large bull and grabbed it by the tail, found the last few bones in the end and crimped them smartly to at least a 90-degree angle.

Things suddenly began to happen. The huge bull leaped straight into the back of the pick-up. That was great except it did not stop there. The bull lost traction and rammed its head through the back window of Richard's truck, got stuck there and began bellowing and thrashing. It was slinging bull snot liberally around in the cab, bashing its head back and forth, even denting the roof outward as it tried to free itself. I slapped the rear gate in the pickup, told them I thought my job was done, jumped in my truck and left.

During the next several days I would catch glimpses of Keith and Richard driving by squinting narrowly at me. They did eventually settle down and we are friends again. Still, after many years, they never invited me again to help load the bull.

 

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