“Who tried to tip the heifer?” RoyBoy called out, but no one answered.
I’d thought about it, but knew Papa would tan my hide if he knew I’d dared Rachel Reynolds to go cow tipping with me last night after midnight. She’d never been, being from Boston and all. Her high flaunting experiences had not entailed a gentle nudge, ever so slightly against Ole Bessie.
Rachael swore she had never backed down from a dare, little alone a triple dog dare. So around 11:45 she met me out back, way behind the south silo. The silage was sour enough to make anyone cry, but it sure took Rachel by surprise when her eyes watered up and she began sneezing.
But no way, no how was she going to pass up my dare. Yet she sure wasn’t going be sneaking up on Bessie throwing snot and sniffling. I told her she’d not be able to catch Bessie sleeping with all that snorting she was making.
It didn’t stop her. She crawled under the bob wire and headed toward the field. Bessie was eyeing her from the start. Ole Bessie, poor girl had been the subject of many of my dares. She’d been Papa’s best milk cow until she died giving birth to Bessie.
See, Bessie was Ole Bessie’s steer. I’d named him not knowing the difference and Papa let it stick. I myself had never tipped Ole Bessie, but I’d sure run from Bessie the steer. He was easy going until his manhood had been disabled. It was then he dared anyone to come near him.
RoyBoy knew no one with any sense around these parts would try messing with him. So he just guessed someone had mistaken him for a heifer or been set up. But with all that sneezing, Rachael could not tell the difference between a horse, a cow or bull.
She got too close and Bessie turned to charge. Rachael was too stunned to run at first. So she just hunkered down and decided to play dead. She then let loose with a multitude of sneezes. Bessie froze and became quite confused. It was then Rachel stood up and rammed Bessie as hard as she could.
The dumb steer just fell over.
Rachael ran. She ran fast right into Aggie, the heifer. Then she bounced into Claudia and Dora, two of the milk cows. She had knocked down over eight bovine before finding her way back to me. I laughed my guts out. Then I laughed until I cried.
With all the going ons…no of the cows showed up for the morning milking and RoyBoy had to go out and drag them into the dairy. They still didn’t produce from the fright and he knew someone had been in the field. It was especially suspicious since Bessie showed up at the dairy door begging to get in. He’d really be shocked if he got milked. No use trying.
The morning milk was scant, but I wasn’t spilling my guts. A person can’t spill it if you ain’t got it.
Never could keep much from Papa, let alone God. Sunday morning, Rachael Reynolds showed up at church black and blue and still sneezing. There was no way she could make a quite confession. Papa heard it all. Might as well tell you, I was crying over something else after church service. No use denying it now. Papa knew the milk mayhem was my fault, so he gave me something to cry about.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.