"Cow prices have been
pretty good lately. I think the feeders are finally realizing the numbers are a little
short," I told my husband, recently.
"It’s about time," Mel snorted. "With what it costs
to run a cow, the folks givin’ ’er room ’n board deserve a li’l break,
’specially with this dry spell hangin’ on like it is."
The corners of Mel’s mouth curled.
"Speakin’ of shortages," he continued, "did I ever
tell you ’bout the time J.C.’s banker called an’ told him he was
comin’ out fer a friendly li’l visit?"
"Don’t believe so," I replied.
"Made J.C. mighty suspicious. He figgered ’at banker wuz
comin’ to check up on his collateral. Made ’im nervous as a cat in a roomful
o’ rockin’ chairs...
"Anyways, J.C. an’ his boys an’ a coupla cowpokes wuz
ready fer ’im when he come a callin’. J.C. put on a big pot o’ coffee
an’ watched out the winder to make sure breakfast wuz done jist about the time he
drove up. He invited him in, went through all the proper salutations. Sure ’nuff,
’at fellar hem-hawed an’ when he wuz on his third cup o’ coffee fin’ly
told J.C. he’d like to take a look at his herd.
"J.C. wuz mighty smart," Mel talked on. "He an’ the
banker piled into his ol’ truck an’ headed for the pasture. When they got there,
the banker took a li’l notepad outta his pocket an’ scratched on it a spell.
"‘Purdy good lookin’ bunch o’ cows,’ the
banker said, eyein’ an ol’ crooked-horned cow with a fine li’l bull calf at
her side.
"Well—as if by some strange coincidence—J.C. an’
the banker run outta gas on the way to the next pasture. Meanwhile, his cowhands wuz busy
movin’ all ’em cows an’ calves from the first pasture over to the next
’un. After a spell—as if by some strange coincidence—they come
bouncin’ right up alongside J.C. an’ his money man. Natur’ly, they had a
fuel can an’ rescued the pair.
"They continued on thur rounds an’, onc’t agin, the
banker scribbled down some figgers. Out o’ the corner of his eye, he seen a mighty
familiar lookin’ spotted cow with a crooked horn. By then, it wuz time fer lunch, so
J.C. an’ the banker run into town.
"While they wuz eatin’ lunch, J.C.’s crew roped an’
rounded up ’at bunch o’ cows an’ calves, put ’em in a trailer an’
hauled ’em to a lease place ’bout a mile down the road."
"You’ve got to be kidding!" I said.
"Nope," Mel replied, with a snicker. "I’m
tellin’ you jist the way it happened...When they wuz done eatin’, J.C. drove the
banker to his cattle’s new destination. They wuz makin’ small talk. The banker
wuz countin’ cows an’ writin’ on his li’l tablet. They wuz
toodlin’ along in Grandma when all at onc’t, the banker spotted ’at cow
with the crooked horn."
"Oh, my!" I gasped.
"J.C. figgered it wuz all over for him. Said he wuz ’maginin’ whut
he’d look like in stripes. But the banker, bein’ a cowman hisself, stuffed his
notepad in his pocket, winked an’ said, ‘My, my, ’at cow with th’
crooked horn shore is a traveler, ain’t she!?!’"
