A HORNY AUDIENCE

Now that I have your attention with the title, I am still borrowing posts from my past. This one is from January 2012.

As a meter reader, I wasn't wild about reading meters in a city setting. Miles of walking, boiling hot sun with dogs chewing on me wasn't that much fun. However, I loved the rural driving routes.

Cow country was perfect. Bumping across pastures, spotting the occasional eagle, fox or a sounder of wild hogs was my idea of a good day. Enjoying the sight of horses with heads alert watching my progress or cows who barely raise their heads from the tall grass as I passed by.

My targets were the water pump meters that were often a mile from the gates and each large ranch had several.

As I bumped thru the tall grass that day, I was enjoying the Egrets, Sandhill Cranes and mama cows with their new calves. It was a comfortable, beautiful day.

“KERTHUNK” brought me back to reality. Backing away from the meter, I buried my back wheel in a bull hole right up to the frame.

Bull holes are large places wallowed out by a bull as a cool and comfortable place to lay. The abandoned holes will easily swallow a tire and tall grass quickly disguises them.

I looked around for perhaps someone within eyesight on a tractor but I was alone. I was saying some pretty unladylike phrases as I dug out the roofing shingles and shovel. One thing I got good at was getting unstuck for it happened regularly in the rural routes.

I dug the edge away from the hole and laid the shingles for traction in the soft sand. As I got off the ground to start the truck, I looked around. I was quite startled for I was totally surrounded. Not 15 feet from me in all directions, was a circle of quiet and curious Brahma cows. There had to be 30 of them. They had slipped up on me with the stealth of an Indian.

Not my picture

Some had horns (which explains my title), some were dehorned but none were threatening nor was there a bull in the group. There was no posturing, kicking of dirt, nor cow like snickers. They were just enjoying the show the strange human was putting on.

For a brief moment we just stared at each other. At that moment, I think I knew a little of how zoo animals must feel.

I curtsied and smiled at my attentive audience. “Did you hear the one about the cow that walked into a bar?” I asked the girls. 

Guess they had all ready heard that one for the cows made the ground rumbled as they took off frantically in all directions. The show was over.

I may have entertained the girls getting unstuck but I was hot, gritty with sand and thinking a few dog bites maybe weren't all that bad.

I have recently learned that the power company I worked for years ago is converting to electronic meter reading. The job I enjoyed long ago will soon become obsolete. That word “obsolete” will put a creak in your bones.

Has a former part of your life become "obsolete"?