The Cow-Pie Chronicles (3 page)

After their cousins left, Tim was back to shoveling cow poop, cleaning cow stalls and doing whatever Dad told him to do.

One Saturday morning. Dad went into the kitchen where Mom was standing at the sink, cleaning fresh vegetables from the garden.

“Where's Tim?” Dad asked.

“Watching TV.”

His dad walked into the living room and stood quietly, watching both of his children lying on the floor in front of the TV. They were caught up in an exciting Western saloon brawl.

“What're you watching?” Dad asked.

“
Roy
Rogers
and
Dale
Evans
,” Tim said, without turning around.

“If you're going to watch Westerns all morning, why don't you watch a real one?”

Dana stared at the TV, daydreaming of being saved by the show's handsome hero. “This is a real one!” she said.

Dad sat down and together the three of them watched Roy Rogers knock down the last mean cowboy in the
saloon
. Then the famous TV cowboy raced out of the saloon to where the horses were waiting. With one mighty leap, he landed perfectly in the saddle of his faithful horse, Trigger.

“
Go get the sheriff! I'm going to cut the
rustlers
 
off at the pass,” Roy shouted to his female partner, Dale Evans, who was standing near the horses. Nodding, Dale climbed onto her plain brown horse and galloped down the dusty street to the sheriff's office.

“
Real cowboys don't wear fancy
sequined
 
shirts and white cowboy hats with no dirt on them,” Dad said, referring to the spotless outfits the two TV stars were wearing. “And they don't ride fancy
golden
palomino
show horses when chasing bad guys.”

“Dale Evans is a real cowgirl!” Dana said, refusing to let her dad ruin her fantasy.

“A real cowgirl doesn't wear a neatly pressed skirt or a cotton blouse without food stains on it, and her hair doesn't stay in perfect shape when she's riding a horse 20 miles an hour on a dusty road,” Dad said. “Now Annie Oakley was a real cowgirl. You need to learn more about her. You'll see what I mean.”

“But Dad, Dale has to dress nice so Roy will notice her,” Dana said.

The show ended as Dale Evans rode away to get the sheriff. The TV announcer said, “Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion of the Red River Gang Raid.”

“You want to see a real cowboy, watch a John Wayne movie,” Dad said, heading out the door.

Tim made a sour face, like he had bitten into a wormy apple. “His movies are boring. They spend too much time talking and kissing girls.”

Dana jumped up off the floor. “Come on, let's go play cowboys! I'll get my new gun.”

Tim thought his sister seemed way too eager to play cowboys. Her definition of shooting bad guys was much different from his—she shot him, and he wasn't the bad guy! But Dana was his only option for playing “cowboys” instead of playing “cowboy.” It was no fun playing cowboy by yourself.

Dad returned and caught Tim in the hallway. He said, “Don't forget to take care of Patsy this afternoon.”

“I won't,” Tim replied.

* * *

A few minutes later, Tim and Dana met outside the back door, ready to play. They both took off running as Tim yelled, “Rustlers are trying to steal our cattle! To the barnyard!”

They headed for the barnyard on a
dead
run
, not stopping until they reached the gate holding the cattle inside a fenced area. The cows stood peacefully munching while waiting to enter the milking parlor. They did not appear worried about the cattle rustlers.

This frustrated Tim. He was thinking about ways to stir up the cows and get them excited when Dana tapped him on his back with her gun.

“Who are you going to be?” she asked.

“I'm Roy Rogers and you're Dale Evans, like always.”

“No, I don't wanna be Dale Evans this time.”

“Dale Evans is the only girl cowboy,” Tim said, a little mad that Dana was trying to change their normal roles.

“But she never shoots anybody.”

“Sure she does. They just don't let them show it on TV.”

Dana thought about it for a moment. “Wait, now that I think about it, she doesn't even have a gun!”

Tim figured those cattle rustlers would have enough time to drive the whole herd to Chicago, butcher them and sit down to a nice steak dinner by the time he got this all straightened out with Dana.

“
Well, you be
Gene
Autry
then,” Tim said.

“Who's he?”

“The singing cowboy. You know—in the movies.”

Dana considered the offer, wondering if her brother was trying to trick her. “Why does he sing?”

Tim grew more frustrated by the second. “I don't know. Maybe he's lonely.”

Dana thought about it again, convinced something was not right about Tim's suggestion. “Well, I'm not lonely. So you be Gene Autry, and I'll be Roy Rogers.”

“What? I'm always Roy Rogers!”

“Then you be Dale Evans.”

“Me? No way! I'm not pretending to be no girl!”

“Then I'm not playing.”

“Okay, I'll be Gene Autry this one time,” Tim finally said, not wanting the entire day to be lost. They both agreed and resumed their make-believe cowboy game.

“
They're heading for the pass! We can ambush them from the
hayloft
,” Dana said. She ran into the barn, with Tim chasing after her. There they spent the rest of the afternoon, running from hiding place to hiding place, chasing after the pretend rustlers until they were so tired that they collapsed in the soft straw in the loft. Both Tim and Dana were sweaty and had scratches on their arms and legs from the hay bales. They were also covered with dirt, dust and
hay
chaff
.

“You ever wonder what it would be like to live in town?” Dana asked.

The question was so out of the blue that it surprised Tim. “No,” he said. Living in town was the last thing Tim wanted to talk about—with Dana or anyone else.

“What would we do there?” Dana asked.

“Probably be bored to death.”

“Mom said I'd be able to play with girls my own age.”

Tim took off his cowboy hat and stared at Dana. “Why are you talking to Mom about living in town?”

“She asked me how I would feel about it if we moved.”

Tim sat quietly, trying to figure out what was going on with Dana and Mom. “Roy Rogers wouldn't want to live in a town,” he finally said.

“What about Gene Autry?” Dana asked.

“No cowboy wants to live in town. They just go there to drink and gamble.”

Dana nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you're right. When does Gene Autry sing?”

“Usually at the end of the movie, to some girl. Why?”

Dana gave Tim a curious look, sensing he was getting annoyed with all of her questions. “Is this the end of the movie?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So sing a song.”

Tim was stunned that his sister, of all people, would suggest such a thing. “There's no girl!”

“I'm a girl.”

“You're Roy Rogers, remember. Gene Autry never sings to boys.”

“I'll be Dale Evans now.”

“You're Dee-Dee!”

“You're a Poop Slinger!”

Tim stuck his gun in his holster, put his hat back on, got up from where he sat and started climbing down from the loft. There was no way he was going to fulfill Devil Dana's stupid request.

“Where are you going?” Dana asked.

“Time to feed Patsy.”

Worried her brother wouldn't want to play cowboys ever again with her, Dana decided she had better be nice to him. “I'll help,” Dana said.

They walked through the milking parlor, which now was full of cows munching on grain. Mr. Slinger tended to the milking. He would corral several cows into the sliding metal bar holders, hook each one up to a milking machine then turn the machines on. The machine would extract the milk from the cows, and then the milk would travel to a holding tank. Once all the cows in that group were done, Mr. Slinger would then let them loose and bring in another group to milk. It was a hard job and had to be done two times a day. There were never any days off or milking sessions skipped—if this happened, the cows would be too full and get upset. Over time, they would stop producing milk altogether.

Tim grabbed an empty two-gallon bucket sitting next to a wall. Sticking out of one side of the bucket was the soft plastic part of a baby bottle.

Tim carried the bucket to his dad, who was watching one of the milking machines gently pull milk from a cow.

“Patsy's feeding time,” he said.

Dad pulled the milking machine from the cow's
udder
and filled the bucket with warm milk. Tim carried it through the milking parlor to the calf pen on the other side. Dana tagged along.

When they reached the pen, a cute month-old black-and-white Holstein calf bounced over to the two of them. Tim lifted the bucket over the fence and hung it on a peg attached to a post. Patsy latched onto the baby bottle part and started sucking milk from the bucket.

Tim entered the pen. “Get me the brush,” he said to Dana. She went to a wooden shelf, picked up a large, stiff brush and passed it to Tim. Gripping the brush firmly, he stroked Patsy's back with it.

“Why do you brush her so much?” Dana asked.

“
If I take really good care of Patsy, Dad says I can take her to the county fair with the
4-H
Club
next summer.” Entering a farm animal in the fair's 4-H contest was a huge deal for a farm kid.

“What if we're not here next summer?” Dana asked.

“Of course we'll be here. Where else would we go?”

“To town,” Dana said.

“Don't be stupid, Dee-Dee.”

“Poop Slinger!” Dana said, leaving Tim to finish taking care of Patsy on his own.

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Chapter 4

Dana talked about moving into town all week. Since he hadn't heard his parents talking about it, Tim figured she was doing it to irritate him. Tim thought about asking his mom to tell Dana to stop, but was afraid to bring up the subject of moving to town—he didn't want his mom to think he was interested in living anyplace but their farm. So he kept quiet and did his best to ignore his sister.

One morning while watching TV, Tim was fascinated as one of his cowboy heroes escaped from some bad guys by tossing a rope over a tree then lowering himself into a
ravine
. That gave him a great idea. Tim had a rope, he had an empty loft and he had a tag-a-long little sister he wanted to get away from.