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On Tuesdays

The Day Dallas Outran The Pickup

Mean and ornery cows are a challenge any day of the week, this day was no different than any other.
My brother, and sisters and myself would load up in the back of the pickup, that was driven by my dad, Howard, anytime there were cattle to be gathered. We would head to the pasture to gather the renegades. They were always at the backside of the pasture in the roughest draw. When the pickup would get close, our systematic procedure was to jump off the tailgate and hit the ground running. Dad would barely slow down for us.
This particular day, it was dusk and getting darker by the minute. The cows that we were after, I knew well, we had history together. I had a feeling that we would be darn lucky if we were successful. Being quick and brave was part of my challenge for the task at hand. I was determined these cows would not get away. Loving to run fast, I knew I was up to the challenge.
As the pickup approached the cows, Dad hollered, “Jump Off!”. We did – hitting the ground running. My game plan was to stay as close to the pickup as I could.
These cows had a history of trying to outrun the pickup, stopping abruptly, and cutting behind the pickup to double back, therefore getting away time and time again. This scenario always put the pickup at a disadvantage of trying to turn around and get behind the ornery cows. I was going to do everything that was humanly possible to keep those cows on track.
I was not proven wrong on my theory this day, I was ready for their shenanigans! True to form, they did their dirty trick, but I was there to cut them off at the pass.
When the cows realized that I was not going to back down, they did an about face and resumed running toward the corrals, where I had wanted them to go in the first place. My feet were flying when Dad passed me in the pickup where he took up his position as header. The cows took on a new burst of speed. We were fast approaching a draw and a berm of dirt just ahead. I knew the pickup would not be able to keep up with the cows. To save the day, my feet sprouted wings, I outran the pickup, which was clipping right along.
The cows were beat. They fell in line and headed to the corral. When we gathered up at the end of the day around the dinner table, Mom and Dad declared me the hero of the cow gathering! To their surprise, I had outran the pickup, keeping the cows from getting away! I was always proud of the day I had outran the pickup.

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