It’s a Completely Different Ball Game
I was readin’ an ad that this newspaper had, showin’ this pure-bred bull collection, and my interest was aroused by this line of cows, so I phone for a catalog and some directions. “Ah,” he said, “we’re easy to find, jis’ turn left at the sign, then go East ‘til ya cross the bridge. Now, the road’s gonna fork, but just bare to the North, and you’ll see us up there on the ridge and come early and browse and if time allows I’ll show ya some trophies I’ve won. This set of bulls are the fanciest by far that we’ve raised since our program’s begun.” So when sale day arrived I left home at 5, with my checkbook and she’s balanced and full of the money I got from some coyotes I caught and my incentive check from the wool, and the sale’s due to start at 1 o’clock sharp, but I’m up to my ass in confusion, ‘cause it’s a little unclear which of these bulls here, can adapt to the range that I’m usin’ because they give ya these EPD’s and the family trees on each and every bull in the herd, and to anticipate a weaning weight like these, would be totally absurd, and then they emphasize this here scrotal size. Now that just seems a little bit foolish somehow, ‘cause I don’t care if he’s got big one’s or not, just as long as he can freshun’ a cow, and I want him to give the will to live to the calves when they’re born next Spring, ‘cause I got no control on Mother Nature’s roll and the types of weather she’ll bring. Now, a bull like that is a little to fat, why look, the bastard he wants to lay down and I’ll eat my hat if a bull like that will work with a hot cow around. The next lot in is 30
Made with FlippingBook - Share PDF online