Turtles and Mice and Bulls, Oh My!

Ah, another weekend in the country. When C’s father is not at the ranch we cube the cows (give them treats) from the back of an old orange Jeep that has been fitted with a hunting tower and seats with gun racks on the front. We have a system so to speak. C drives out to the pasture while I sit in the passenger seat until we get close then I hop in the back to pour out the cubes. First, however you must load the bags in the back of the Jeep. This weekend we removed the doors and as I walked around to the back where we would load the bags, AAAAGGHHHH! There half in, and half out I might add, was a turtle with a bullet hole through his shell. C took one look and said “Well, get him out.” Hmmm, why must I be the one to remove the offending corpse? Because she said if I didn’t we would just not cube the cows at all. I bucked it up and removed the turtle. You thought I touched it didn’t you? No, I found a silver bucket top, slid him off the tailgate and quickly covered him up with the lid. Perfect.

Cubes loaded and ready to go, we set out along the gravel road that leads to the back pasture. A few minutes into our journey, I see a mouse high tail it from the console, straight up the middle of the cab between our seats and somewhere in the back. Before I could quite warn C of her impending doom, the scared shitless part of my brain took over and I jumped right out my door while the Jeep continued on. C seeing her passenger bail knew it must be bad. By this time I have yelled into the dust cloud the Jeep is leaving in its wake “MOUSE”! A split second later there is C jumping out of her door. What else was there to do but watch the Jeep slowly rolling away from us with nothing but a field mouse for a passenger. The Jeep finally stopped but before climbing back in we looked everywhere for the mouse. At last we came to the conclusion the mouse must have seen us bailing ship and thought he would do the same.

Now you may know how spoiled our dog is, but what you may be unaware of is his tendency to not think before acting. It is a trait he inherited from me. C’s father has been feeding one of the bulls outside the gate of his pasture because despite being the Alpha (only) Male in his pasture, the female cows will beat the crap out of him and take his feed if given the opportunity. We let him out of his gate which went as smooth as silk. It was on reentry that he had some trouble. He didn’t want to go back. Instead he went halfway in the gate, stopped and stared. C was shooing him in but he wouldn’t budge. I came out with all the confidence in the world (as well as a piece of conduit) and poked him in the rear to move the process along. When an animal the size of a Honda turns around and shakes his head at you after you have just poked him in the ass it is time for Plan B. Before we could really come up with Plan B, Isaac decided he would crawl under the barb wire fence separating him from safety and certain death and come bounding towards us both. I panicked. I screamed. C retrieved the dog and pulled him away from the danger zone. The cows took the opportunity to start making their way out of the pasture to see if there was anything left in the feed bucket. At this point I was high on adrenaline with a bit to spare so I went nuts. Screaming at the top of my lungs and waving my arms around. My hair was standing on end. They cows gave me one look, looked at each other as if to say “whoa, she has lost all her marbles”, then walked calmly back into the pasture. I’m telling you I can be scarier than a dead turtle, fleeing field mouse or a two ton bull when panicked.