The Black Cow and Bag

It could be beating for sure and I knew it. I could just tell by the way the little black cow stood apart from the rest of the herd.

To try to explain it would be difficult, it’s just something that a former cow-hand could understand. I had seen the animal struggling as I was stopped at the traffic light.

It was instinctive for me to watch the cattle in what remained of the opened fields of the Kiley Ranch off of Sparks Blvd. And as I watched the cow and waited for the red light to change to green I saw the tiny van pull off the side of the road.

It did not look out-of-place at first as often people would do that to talk safely on their cell phones. However as I started to pull forward into traffic I watched as a young woman got out of the van and proceeded to climb through the barbed wire fence.

“She gonna get herself hurt or worse,” I muttered in disgust as I found myself pulling off the road too.

Slowly I started backing up towards the stationary van. I could see that the woman was having no luck wrangling the little black cow who in obvious distress.

And I could see why now. It had swallowed a black plastic bag and it had obviously become caught in the animal’s throat.

“Ma’am,” I said, “Let me get it.”

“Okay,” she replied.

Yet she stayed to see that the job was completed.

Walking beyond where the cow was standing, I wanted to separate it completely from the herd. My idea was to eventually tire it out enough to just yank the black material from its throat and be done with it.

Slowly I moved back and forth, driving it further and further from the other cows and closer to the fence line. I could see its ribs heaving in and out as it struggled to get air.

In the distance I could also see the woman had opened up her van and was sitting on the step talking to her two small children. They were both in-car seats.

Still I continued to circle back and forth using my cowboy hat to fan the little black cow away from the herd and up against the barbed wire fence. Within a matter of minutes I was within five feet of the critter.

Still I continued to work the animal. I worked the cow looking for the right moment.

It came when the brute turned from left to right, his nose within inches of my waist. That’s when I took advantage of the animal’s error.

Like an old cougar, I sprang at the cow clutching its ears. I tried my best to dig my heels into the earth but couldn’t get them set.

The young cow bellowed and spun around sure that he was being attacked by a vicious predator. He choked and coughed, gasped and gagged but it continued to put up a strong fight out of natural instinct.

On the other hand, I was hanging on for my dear life, hoping that the little black cow did not suddenly change directions and try to rub me off on the sharpened ends of the barbed wire fence. I knew if that were to happen I’d have to let go and start the whole process over.

Then without warning the little black cow slowed down, then stopped. The animal did not move except for his sides which heaved heavier than before.

I knew this was the moment I had been waiting for.

Grabbing the exposed end of black bag, I tugged on it. It made an awful slurping noise as it slipped from the animal’s throat.

I held it up, shiny and slick.

It was more than the woman could bear. She discovered she could change a thousand messy diapers, but that black bag — it was more than her tummy could take.