I guess I should have took the pills the doctor in emergency prescribed last week, but that was last week and I've never been much of a pill popper. So I guess it serves me right if I can't sleep because I hurt too much. ( I just took the dang things but they'll take a while to kick in.)
About 7:00 tonight my cowboy says: "Where's Bachgen, I didn't see him outside." (He's the one dog that will never leave the yard on his own.)
I got this real sick feeling in my stomach. "I don't know. When's the last time you saw him?"
Then he tells me: "Dang, I think I left him down at the river. I was loading those two bulls and got mad at Wilbur because I could have had that third one in the trailer if he would have just hurried and I forgot all about the dog. We better go look for him."
So we hurried an climbed in the truck and headed down to the Spring Field (called that because it has 2 springs) by the river. We drove to the dugout where my cowboy had jumped the 2 bulls in the trailer. I got out and stood in the back of the truck thinking maybe I could see him better; the spear grass is super long and hardened off (nasty stuff but the cows like it).
I whistled my loudest and called his name. It wasn't a minute later and the dog ran up to driver's side panting and looking like a porcupine from the spear grass stuck in his hair. (Wish I had taken my camera but I was too worried when we left the house.)
We both breathed a sigh of relief and I think Bachgen did too. He doesn't much like cows and there were lots hanging around the dugout where we found him. I spent a good half hour picking it out of poor Bachgen's hair. I am so glad he trusted us to come looking for him and stayed where he was. He's a good dog, like his dad, Blue.
The Keurig and a Wednesday Night
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