Yesterday, late, my cowboy calls and says he has a problem (unlike the real old time cowboys the board insists, in spite of his protestations, that he carry a cell phone).
"Oh-oh!" I think. I know he's pulling Charolais bull but he sounds calm but . . . odd. "What?"I ask.
"Well, it's kind of embarrasing," He tells me.
So now I really am wondering what's going on. "Yaa?" I quiz.
"Well, it's my bull whip. . . it's stuck in this bulls tail."
I smile but try not to sound like I am, "Oh ya?"
"Can you come out and make sure I get him in?"
I tell him, ya, and head out to the gate, with my camera. I took a picture but I knew better than to ask.
"I suppose you're going to blog that?" he grumbles.
"Yup," I smile.