Like Water and the Duck’s Back

“This past year, we pastured a young bull we nicknamed ‘Dumb-Cluck’.
Thinking back on it, I think he thought he was grandson to a mallard duck,
‘Cause he was always doing things that a bull doesn’t usually do.
Like wading out in to our hard bottomed slough
And settling down in it ’til all you could see was his head.
First time I saw him out there I thought he was drowned and dead.
All his ladies were collected there on the bank
Watching him soak up water like a gold fish in a big tank.
I didn’t know he was only in there taking a bath
And that in an hour or so he’d wander off up the path
To the high pasture and the deep sweet brome grass
Where he would stretch out with his ladies and just watch time pass.
I believed fully young Dumb-Cluck was truly in deep distress,
Mired down, sinking fast and my responsibility to get him out of that mess.
So I grabbed some twine and headed for the gate
To save young Dumb-Cluck from his watery fate.
Now, you’ve got to see the picture and keep it in your mind
‘Cause if you look closely, I’m sure there’s humour you’ll find
In one dumb bunny racing to save a Dumb-Cluck
By pulling him out of the water with just a little Ford truck.
However, when I hit the barn all the vehicles were gone but the Honda Big Bear.
The vehicle remuda was empty.
There was nothing there 
And no time for saddle or halter.
I had to get out there and save that poor bull from drowning in that water.
So, the Honda and I roared down the road and through the pasture gate,
Our pressing mission to save a young bull from a watery fate.
It was clear the heifers were most disconcerted over their impending loss
But I had no time for them and I scattered them Angus cross
As I dismounted that Honda on the run,
Twirling my loop getting ready to save that son of a gun,
I settled it down right over his head.
There was no way I’d let him drown and go belly up dead.
The moment my string hit his horns he went in to motion,
Like some old Greek god rising up out of the ocean.
He was right ‘ticked-off’ at me disturbing him in his tub
And came after me like a wolf after a sheep
Or a Momma bear after a critter messing with her cub.
Fortunately, I had waded out just a little way, only hip deep,
And had left the Honda setting there at idle
So when I hit the saddle, with the bull on my tail,
I let the Big Bear have it’s bridle
And we hit the wrangler retreat trail,
That bull and us scattering flies and tramping down the brome.
So I was mighty fortunate to stay alive and be here to write this poem.
Get the picture: a dumb bunny on a Big Bear being chased by a “Dumb-Cluck,”
Observed closely by a crew of hefty heifers glad their boy friend was unstuck.
We went up and down that grass three or four times ’til his energy began to fade
And I am telling you pard, that was the wildest ride I ever made.
So, now when I go past and old Dumb-Cluck is neck deep in that slough
I just thumb my nose and yell “Go ahead and drown and to heck with you!”
© 2001, D. Hayes, All Rights Reserved