Coming Home My father was a cow man. He loved Herefords, red ones with white faces. He only bought heifers, for you city folk that means girl cows. I asked him about that and he said they were easier to work with than steers, steers are boy cows. It’s quite possible that is a true fact all across the animal kingdom. He also said they would fatten up quicker than steers. I wont add any smart remark to that last sentence for it will surely not be taken well by the female readers. Nobody needs that kind of trouble. Dad had a knack for cows. Whenever he wanted to move them to a new pasture they would follow his truck. In fact anytime they saw his truck they would come a running. Cows may not be the smartest animals in the world, but they learn quickly who serves dinner. If needed he could herd them with arm and hand gestures. Sometimes with a vocal command, “hey-aah”. Never too loud, but firm. I had seen a few get away from him over the years and he would tell me, ”There’s always one fool in every herd”. Kinda like that with people. I had left home at eighteen and had been in Athens for five years when I decide to come home and farm with him. Growing up we had a middling father and son relationship and I had gotten in more than my fair share of youthful trouble. On the times when I did, he rarely punished or scolded me. He would just shake his head and mutter, “I reckon you learn one day”. I think my behavior had worn him out. Once back home, we got in a groove farming. Then one late winter, early spring day as we ridin down the dirt road that split the farm, checking on the cows, he says to me, “one is missing, we better check”. I have no idea how he knew, there were a hundred in the herd. He pulled over to the side of the road and parked. The field was thirty acres and planted in wheat. The herd was usually in the feedlot, but we let them out from time to time to graze on the young wheat growing in the field and to stretch their legs. You could only leave the cows grazing on wheat for more than a day or two, it was rich and they would eat themselves sick. Dad had parked by a gate where a hedge row ran out halfway across the field and then fanned out into a wet weather pond. There was a old home site with a open well just before the wet weather pond, I assumed dad thought the cow to be there. The home was gone, but the open well was still there though covered with boards. We walked along the hedgerow looking for the cow and finally found her at the old home site in the well. She was was standing in water up to her belly. Lucky it wasnt deeper than that. The well was ten foot square and twenty feet deep. She could barely move. Up until this point in my life, Dad had always had the answer for any problem that arose. I had lived my entire young life depending on him for just that. To this day I am not sure if he didnt have an answer or if he was testing me, for he looks to me and says, “ How we gonna get her out?” I thought for few seconds and the solution came to me like a bolt of lightning. I replied, “We can get Mr Virgil to bring his wrecker and I will got down on the cable, put the “belt” around her, and lift her out”. Mr Virgil ran a local gas station we did business with, he was always ready to help in a pinch. Well sir, Mr Virgil came and backed his wrecker up as close to the well as possible. I went down on the cable and straddled her like you would a horse. She was shivering but didnt make a move. It was easy to tell she was scared to dead. I got enough slack in the cable to hook the “belt” under her belly and around her. Mr Virgil started the winch and the wrecker lifted me and her out pretty as you please. Back on dry ground, I dismounted, loosen the belt, and she walked away like nothing had happened. For a few minutes we watch to be sure she was ok, and then Dad, the man I had depended on for everything, turned to me and says, “Much obliged”. He then shook my hand, just like I was a grown man. And a second or two later I realized I had been wrong for years, for up until that moment, I hadnt fully appreciated my Father for the man he truly was. How could I have been so wrong?
Posted on: Sun, 01 Jun 2014 05:59:37 +0000
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