Instead of the usual blog, thought I`d relate a recent event to you all out there in blogger land:
We have a small flock of sheep, and just once in a while...................................
.............I had managed to tag one of my sheep! This was areal Red letter day.
I know that I should have tagged them as lambs, but I was busy! So it was with a heavy heart that I climbed the hill, behind the stables. I had a bucket of sheep feed and a tagging gun.
It was cloudy and threatening rain, actually it was raining, and I was just trying to be poetical.
I reached the spotI thought would do, and sprinkled the feed in a nice line and waited. Sure enough out of the rain and mist, came a small black face, followed closely by more. I was anxious, and the sweat was making my palms itch. The gun was slipping in my hand, was this how it felt going into battle?
The excitement was making me light headed, and then he appeared! At first just shadowy shape, low against the horizon.
His head low, and his baleful eyes watching my every move. I was gripped,before I new what was happening he darted forward, his hooves flashing great sparks, and pushing the other sheep out of the way, he began to hoover up great gob fulls of feed!!!!!
Quick as a flash, I was upon him! My grip on his neck tremulous at first, but as he started to bolt, I managed to get both hands around his neck.
I felt that I had gained the upper hand! I dug my heels in and held on! I then caught hold of his front leg and managed to lift it long enough to hold him still, and then he did it!
This ram was a devil incarnate! He was huge, he was a monster!! Why had I decided to do this today. He turned his head to the side , and hooked my right arm, the one with the gun in! He deftly hooked the gun with his horn, he was fiendish!
But I still had hold of him, with one final jump he was away. I dived at him and managed to grab his back leg! Bad mistake! This ram was not for turning, away he went full tilt, dragging me behind him, the mud was flying everywhere. I was unable to see for the dirt! Why didnt I leave go? What made me hang on?
It was the old stump of wood, it had been there for years, from the same piece of ground that stopped me! Not the ram, Oh no! Not the ram, just me!!!!
Of course dear reader, I am sure that we have all been there. So feeling a lot like Wily Coyote, who`s just been beaten by the Road Runner. I slinked off to lick my wounds.
Back at the Ranch, and nursing several cuts and grazes, I was wiping off the shit, when a light came on in my pea brain.
What am I doing? My arm reached forward and I grabbed my trusty weapon.
I stomped back up the hill.
My heart was doing overtime, I only hoped it wouldnt give out!
I put my deerskin gloves on, and loosened my grip on the rope, carefully scanning the field, there he was! He was actually smiling back at me! I was incensed. Boldly stepping forward, I shook loose a good loop, swirling it about my head, relaxing the wrist, I let the lariat fly! Bastard!! Missed!
`Steady` does it my boy, as I whispered to myself. Again the loop shot forward, YES!! Right over his horns, I pulled the rope tight and held on.
Nothing! He just stood there, I pulled myself along the rope towards him, coiling the rope as I went, I was starting to think good thoughts. And then? Yeah! oyu guessed right, off we went again! My head was pounding, as the cholesterol filled blood in my viens struggled to move! My heart was already at seizure level! My legs were giving way, and I was loosing my vision, then I saw my chance, I caught a loop of rope around a psssing post. Really? ..........How good was that?
The rope jerked taught, and the rope stretched and sang under the pressure, but he stopped dead!
Tying off the rope to another post, I shot forward, legs buckling under me...........I was on him! I reached for the gun, what gun?
I could see it where I had left it in my earlier moment of epipheny. It was on a hay bale!!
Still I had my ram! Off I went lickety split down the hill, grabbed the gun and raced back up through the pain of a minor heart attack, he was still there. Gripping the tagging gun in my right hand, I brought the jaws together around the ear, and gave him the full compression.! He twitched, and writhed but it was in, the pink tag was in!
I untied him from the post, all the while he stood stock still. As I began to coil up the rope, I could see the bemused and shocked expression on his face!
"How did he do that?"
A song came to mind," Regrets, I have a few", etc.