Cheryl at the Farmers Daughter posted a funny account of a farmer's attempt to rope a deer. You can see it here and it is really worth the trip. The author is a very funny writer. When I read it and quit giggling, I was so reminded of an event I actually saw in a similar vane. In either case, no animals were hurt. Now humans--well that is another story.
One of my favorite couples when I read meters in Okeechobee, was a rancher and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. A. They managed a large Brahman cattle ranch but they also adopted a couple of my dogs and contributed to my rescue so we had become friends.
They were licensed by the Game and Fish Commission to raise orphaned deer recovered by officers in the field which explained Bucky. Bucky—I know, not a very original name—was a young male deer they had running around their large fenced yard. I had known him since he was a tiny spotted beauty being bottle fed. He was adorable and I am not sure he was aware for a long time that he was a deer.
According to the A's, he loved cigarette tobacco and chewing gum. I didn't smoke and wasn't sure the chewing gum was a great idea, so when I knew I would be in his yard that day, I would bring him shelled corn as a treat. It rather made my day when he would follow me and nuzzle my pockets when I went into the fenced yard.
Bucky however in time grew into a fine looking young buck and his ways changed. No longer was I allowed to go in the yard with him alone. I would honk and either Mr. or Mrs. A would accompany me to the meter. Bucky entered puberty and his raging hormones made him no longer trustworthy. He could get cranky and aggressive to strangers with out warning.
|Not my picture but looks about like him|
This particular day when I honked, Mr. A was the one to stroll out to the gate to escort me in. He was Matt Dillon in size but quite gentle. As we were walking to the meter and talking about Bucky's newest behavior , a pick up truck pulled up and a young cowboy got out.
Mr. A was keeping an eye on the dancing Bucky as he shouted,"Be with you in a minute young fellow."
After I read the meter and was safely on the other side of the fence, the young man stated he was seeking work. Mr. A offered to pen Bucky up so the young man could safely reach the office for an interview. Seems Bucky was much more aggressive towards males whom he deemed competition.
“Why all this fuss over a little spike buck.” the cowboy asked.
“Well, he is pretty ornery these days and I don't want you to get hurt.” Mr. A. answered.
“That little ole buck can't hurt me.” said a puffed up cowboy. “I have handled yearling calves with no problem.”
Mr. A got a twinkle in his eye and said,”Tell you what. Do you suppose you can walk up to the office door, knock once then come back to the gate? Do that and if you are still on your feet, you have a job.”
This cowboy did not lack confidence though was not long on good sense. “Get the papers ready.” he bragged as he pushed the gate open.
Sweet Bucky smelled the cowboy's inflated testosterone and instantly became demon Bucky. His tiny rack lowered and with amazing speed, he aimed it at the cowboy's crotch. The cowboy was quick, I'll give him that. He laughed as he grabbed the horns and I am sure he was thinking he could easily keep Bucky at bay.
In seconds however, the laughter became grunting as cowboy was flung on his backside with a determined Bucky trying to bury his small rack in the boy. Sweat was pouring off the fellow as the struggle continued. The cowboy didn't dare let loose of the horns and Bucky was not losing interest. It was a stand off with no resolution.
Stunned, I watched the two of them kicking up sand. Cowboy on the ground , both hands with a death grip on Bucky's horns and the well fed yearling deer pinning him with his strength and stomping on his body with small sharp hooves. Both were grunting, only the cowboy was cussing.
I was concerned for both of them and started for the gate hoping to shout Bucky off the poor fellow. Mr. A stuck out his arm to stop me and only seemed amused. With a soft drawl, Mr. A calmly said,” If it wouldn't offend your manhood son, I could probably get him off you.”
The cowboy was now worried more about survival than his manhood. He pitifully begged Mr. A for some relief. Mr. A pulled Bucky off the young man with just a little difficulty and I held the gate open as the poor fellow crawled through. I am sure he had a thoroughly adjusted attitude and a better knowledge of the saying "Pride goes before the fall".
He did not stop to ask if he had gotten the job. He jumped into his truck and spit dirt all over us in his haste to leave. Pretty sure this was not a story he ever repeated unless he added at least a hundred pounds to Bucky and the young buck morphed from deer to elk. I would love to know what he told his wife or girl friend about all the little hoof shaped bruises.
Bucky eventually got too rank for human company and was turned loose to roam the huge ranch unmolested. For a while he came around the house to mooch a little tobacco from the couple. Then he just disappeared. We hoped he had an lovely bunch of does in his care to protect. He certainly had the attitude for it.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE