Weekly Posting of the Conservative Cow Doctor

Gee and Haw

Years back, during the holiday season I oftentimes hitched one of my two mules to a nice little sleigh owned by the local volunteer fire department. The sleigh was equipped with wheels and had a small generator for lights, and I hauled Santa up and down the streets of Laurel spreading yuletide cheer. My mules were country stock, but they soon adapted to the lights, sights and sounds of the big city except for one yard which displayed a couple white Rudolph silhouettes. Every time I jingled past these cut-outs, my mule, Andy, would draw a bead on Rudolph before busting into a full panic. More than once, we jumped the curb, shot across the sidewalk and sprinted into the playground equipment behind West School just to evade the threatening Rudolph. Demonstrating my stupidity, I hollered, “Whoa” every time the sleigh ricocheted off the asphalt hoping the mule would stop before the antique, Christmas sleigh became holiday kindling. Being Santa’s helper is not as glamorous as Hollywood makes it appear.

There is an old, mule skinner adage that “the empty wagon makes the most noise.” It does. It is the loudest and most threatening event involving critters and carts. I have been bucked off, hooked a branding pot with a roped calf, and tipped over an entire pack string in the timber but nothing compares to a wagon run-away. My time on the lines taught me Christian cowboys make the best outriders because they are not afraid to die.

Amos and Andy, my original mule team, have long passed. Abby, my last long ear, is almost 30 and even though I did not hitch her last winter I think she would drive just fine should this holiday season dictate the opportunity. Since I have all but one of my 19 grandkids headed to the ranch for Christmas maybe I will haul Abby and my sleigh down to Wyoming. I was in my 40s before I learned to harness and hitch so I best pass this skill to my descendants while I can. You have never really lived until you nearly died, and there is no more memorable near-death experience than a holiday wagon run-away and this brings me to my point. You will never die in front of the X-Box, but your mind will rot as if you had. In this satanic era of AI and the electronic vortex, learn something valuable like how to harness and hitch a team. Merry Christmas.