BritChaser
Well-known member
About six of us from all over the west were taking a line through some milo stalks when the farmer's son came along the road honking and waving us in. We turned out of the field and asked him what was up. "We need help. We got a calf in a swimming pool over here." Swimming pool? We're in the middle of nowhere in western Kansas. A sense of unreality set in. We loaded up and went to the next section west to the abandoned farmstead. Sure enough, there was an in-ground concrete pool with deep and shallow ends, and stood a black bull calf in the foot of green slime in the deep end. Apparently he had fallen in in the dark of night. We scrounged up a rope, threw it around the critter's neck, and got him out of the deep end into the dry shallow end. Then we pushed him over into corner. He was docile, maybe worn out, a good thing since he had sharp horns. We put his front hooves over the edge of the pool and put a post under his hind quarters, fulcrumed it on the edge of the pool and gave the heave-ho to lift him. When his hind quarters were high enough we shoved him over onto the ground. Then he became the ornery critter he really was, taking two hunters for a heel skate as they hung on to the rope around his neck. We finally got the rope off him and he hopped over the hot wire to rejoin his herd.
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