Sometimes our best-laid plans
Seem to fall apart
When something doesn't go the way it should
Like when the bulls get out
'Cause they're fighting through the fence
Then chase the neighbor's cows into the wood.
I had no intention of spending half the morn
Trying to chase them down and get them in
But, that is just what happened and it frustrated me
Like it would most anyone of mortal men.
So, like I've done before
I went to chase them down
After patching up the hole there in the fence.
My spouse was there to help
Which might not be such a good thing
Since she saw me lose my temper and get tense.
Fortunately our neighbor took pity on us there
And helped us get the bulls into a pen.
Then it was a matter of just going for the trailer
And taking them right back home again.
[This brief poem actually condenses the events of a couple of days this week -- yes, it's only Wednesday. The bulls got out twice -- once on Sunday and again yesterday -- fighting through the fence with the neighbor's bull. Yesterday's chase was only about 1/4 as bad as the one on Sunday. We moved the bulls and will be doing some fencing. Sigh. I'm thinking hamburger might be a solution, but dang, it would be mighty expensive hamburger.]
No comments:
Post a Comment