Uncle + Lariat + Holstein Bull = Big Trouble
Today's Joy: Facing The Bull.
Well, Reader. It seems my family cannot go even a single weekend without becoming entangled in some kind of bizarre mischief. Fortunately, I had the camera along today and captured photographic proof of the day's surreal adventure.
It started out with the intention of being good neighbors. After a long week of working as superintendents at the Kane County Fair, my family was unwinding while watching Cousin, the farrier & Rodeo-extraordinaire, practice barrel racing at the local saddle club. Suddenly, Cousin looked up and said,"Hey, there's a cow out!"
Sure enough, across the country lane, a black & white Holstein was outside the fence and off for a sunset stroll. Said Holstein's owners were nowhere in sight as the cow meandered down the road toward several open cornfields. Reader, anyone who's ever chased a cow will tell you that it becomes 14 times harder to catch if it decides to take off into a cornfield.
So, we scrambled into action. Uncle jumped into the bed of the truck and pulled his lariat from the tool box while Aunt Chef popped into the driver's seat and hit the gas. (I was sitting in the passenger seat with a good view of all the mayhem about to unfold.) Meanwhile, Mrs. Kravitz, an old family acquaintance, tootled over in her golf cart to cut-off the cow's escape. Just for fun, Cousin & another family friend rode their horses over for back-up.
Between Aunt Chef's fancy motorized herding moves and Mrs. Kravitz' golf cart, we got the wayward cow back onto his owner's property. Then, Uncle, lariat in hand, jumped out of the truck bed and walked up to the cow. He was about 4 or 5 feet away when Mrs. Kravitz yelled,"It's a bull! It's a bull!"
And yes, Reader, it was a bull. A big bull. With horns. And it had had just about enough of us. The next few minutes were chaos as the bull tried to escape, charging Mrs. Kravitz in her golf cart twice, pawing the ground and moving menacingly toward Uncle, who merely slapped it across the forehead with his lariat. Even Cousin and her horse saw some action when the bull charged them. All the while, Aunt Chef maneuvered the truck to keep the bull cornered.
Eventually, a 90 year-old couple (the farm owners), pulled in. Turns out, the bull belonged to their grandson, who was in Wisconsin for the weekend. Somehow, between all of us, we managed to get the bull back in the barn. Aunt Chef, who pulled the truck up to complete a make-shift corral of people and vehicles, rolled down her window, gave the bull a look and said, "Go into the barn now, Cow." He glowered at her for half a second, then seemed to think better of it and went quietly inside. Uncle shut the door with a sigh of relief and then went to patch up the spot where the bull had escaped. With that, our little round-up adventure was over.
Just a typical day with my family, Reader. Aunt Chef summed it up best. Once all the commotion was over and we were back at the saddle club, she put her head in her hands and started laughing. "My doctor says I'm supposed to live a stress-free life! How in the world am I supposed to do that? Every day is like this!" She is right, of course. But I wouldn't miss it for the world.