Read Baxter's Column

ON THE EDGE OF COMMON SENSE

by Baxter Black, DVM

Landscaping

Genie noticed the bottle of Jack Daniels on the kitchen table when she got home late that night. Like most lettuce farmers, if whiskey was kept in the house, it was not usually kept on the kitchen table.

She marched in the bedroom to find her husband Don sprawled out on the bed with one pant leg off and one sock on. He looked like a body that had been dragged off the bottom of a lake.

He began shakily, “I was watchin’ TV in my shorts when I heard a ruckus on the lawn...and mooing.”

Don went to the window and peeked out to discover his front yard covered with cows! They were obviously from neighbor Willie’s farm across the road. It was a surreal picture under the yard light; black and tan and red  clouds on a sky of green grass.

Don ran out on the porch waving and shouting at the curious beasts. Although the cows paid him little mind, Willie’s bull developed an immediate urge to mash him to a pulp! Don did a wheelie on the cement walk and ran back into the house! The bull mounted the porch steps and charged the door! After ramming it several times he clattered through the lawn furniture and mowed down a good sized decorative evergreen!

Don waited a few minutes, put on his jeans and nervously eased out intending to shoosh the cows off the lawn which was now covered with deep tracks and cow pattys. It was just as he stepped on the leaking sprinkler head with his socks on, that the bull charged from behind the arborvitae!

He raced to the front door, clearing the jam and slamming it in the bulls’ face! He could see the paint cracking as the bull pounded on the other side! The bull then crashed off the porch and rammed the passenger side of his daughter’s red Monte Carlo! Then he clammered back on the porch to resume his lusty bawling and door demolition!

Don was hyperventilating as he tried to dial the sheriff. “He’s not here but I can call him on the radio,” offered the receptionist, “What’s the complaint?”

“Ma’am, yer not gonna believe this but a cow’s tryin’ to break into my house!”

The sheriff had come and gone and the sirens had all died away by the time Genie got home. The front lawn looked like Katrina! As she listened to her pitiful exhausted husband unfold his bizarre tale, she was torn between the need to comfort and hold him, and the uncontrollable desire to snort and fall over backwards in gales of hysterical laughter! She simply wiped her eyes and went to the kitchen and poured herself a shot.