The Bull that Could

Barnyard Memories

County Fair

One a year the Fair is the end of summer or the beginning of fall.  The projects from the year are put up for judging and viewing.  It is also a time for friends from around the county to renew their friendships. 

Then, there is the carnival and rodeo, the added bonus of the fair.  My father and uncle had a livestock hauling business and usually got the contract to haul the rodeo livestock in to town.  They would help work the animals and keep the rodeo moving along.  It was neat to sit in the bleachers and watch them prod and cajole the critters through their paces. 

For the most part the animals behaved pretty good.  Oh there was always a calf or two that wanted to go over there.  There was the bronco that had a two buck routine then would stop stiff legged and buck no more.  For the most part, things went smooth, steers ran, wrestlers jumped and riders found that the arena floor was not padded.

The bulls were at the end and when that portion came round, the tension rose some.  Could hear them kicking a bawling in the chutes.  The cowboys standing over them trying to get situated just right and out the gate the bull would come with a roar.  Clods flying, spinning bull, rider plowing the dirt, whistle blows and the bull gets rounded up.

There was one ole Brahma bull that wanted nothing to do with the rodeo rider.  Quick turn, high buck and the bull was sending the rider towards the fence.  Doubt it lasted 2 seconds.  The Brahma threw the belt and went for a joy ride across the arena.  The arena workers could not get him turned towards the pens.  Bull on a mission headed for the northeast corner of the arena. 

There the bull met the fence.  Dazed the bull backed up, jumped up, trying to crawl over the fence.   The cowboys were there, waving and hollering but the bull just kept kicking and bucking, slowly working his way up the fence.  The folks in the grandstand were excited and lots of oohs and ahhs were drifting overhead.  

Bull managed to get over the fence and into the runway.  The next fence was but another obstacle for the bull.  Leaping up, he got on the top railing and with some kicking.  The bull on the loose was climbing the second fence.  The cowboys all the time, hollering and waving at him with ropes etc.  The bull was not to be deterred.  It was like he had a girlfriend over yonder he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Across the race track ole bull galloped, coming to the grandstand fence at the southeast corner.   By then folks in the seats were scrambling and looking for safe spots.  The track fence only slowed the bull down long enough for the cowboys to get around the grandstand and try to stop the bull.

Up and over the rack track fence the bull scrambled.   Folks in the grandstand were scrambling also.  There were screeches, screams and lots of hollering.  The escaping bull paid no attention the commotion.  Straight ahead was the carnival and midway.   Folks on the midway and on the rides had heard the racket and when they saw the Brahma headed their way, the volume of hollering went roof. 

Bull saw an opening between the midway and the rides.  Head lowered, he went charging for the carny.  People running hither and yon, the barkers had ducked down in their trailers.   The rides had stopped, stranding riders.  Folks were running any direction they could.  The bull bound through the opening between the rides and the midway. 

Out into the parking he loped.   Cowboys running behind trying to get him stopped.  Some riders had made it out the parking but the bull was ignoring them.  Over there was another fence and beyond was the freedom of a pasture.  The barb wire fence was no challenge for the bull.  Up and over he went.  As he headed to the north, my uncle’s voice yelled out,” Let him go. That is my pasture, We’ll get him the morning.”

The chasers, with a collective sigh of relief, stopped and watched the bull bounce over the ridge.  With the ruckus over, they had to go back to arena and finish the rodeo.  There were still a couple of bull riders waiting their turn.  Folks in the grandstand had gotten back to their seats.  The crowd was still abuzz and there was anticipation with the next couple of bulls. 

The bulls came charging out the chutes, the crowd cheering, wanting to see another escape.  The bulls were not obliging.  Their riders were tossed without dignity to the ground and back to the bullpen they went. 

Next morning my uncle goes riding out across his pasture looking for the wayward bovine.  Couple of guys were with him and by the water tank the escapee lounged.  They got him up and headed him the right direction.  The wayward bull trotted along like nothing was wrong. 

They get him to the gate and headed for the pens at the end of arena.  Placidly the rampaging bull sauntered along into the pen.  That afternoon the bull stood by himself in the pen watching the on goings in the arena.  Folks in the grandstand were talking and pointing but the bull was left alone. 

When the bull riding statured, there were some cat calls to get the wayward bull out and ride him.   An encore of the rampaging bull did not happen.   That evening he was loaded up and sent home with the rest of his friends.