Weekly Posting of the Conservative Cow Doctor

 

Marital Secrets—Part Three

According to 2010 census data, the number of teenagers living with both parents has reached an all-time low. If there were a Super Bowl of societal decay, an astonishingly huge number of Americans would be sporting Super Bowl rings. Less than 17 percent of black teenagers and 54 percent of white teenagers live with mom and dad. For 50 years, fathers have been incrementally replaced by welfare programs and the left ignores this destruction of our American culture by spinning it as progress. To promote an intact family, here is the secret ingredient behind my successful 36 year-long marriage—curiosity and suspense. Stick with me while I ramble to my point.

It is calving season and Wednesday evening Steve called to say he had a cow with problems, so I gobbled dinner and zipped to the clinic. Laurel is a thriving city quickly becoming the cultural center of Montana as we have both a McDonalds and a Wal-Mart. My clinic is located four blocks from the bustling downtown financial center, so my biggest fear has always been the escape of a critter exhibiting mad cow disease. I have custom built my pipe corrals over eight feet high and use a heavy log chain to secure the rancher’s trailer to the access gate, so the possibility of escape is one in a million. Steve’s cow was the one.

Steve’s critters rarely peg the crazy meter, so I barely noticed the snorts in the front compartment of the trailer as I was chaining up the gates. I took my place behind the crowding gate and Steve tripped the trailer’s divider gate. The black cow exploded out the back in a single bound before bouncing off a holding panel. Snorting and throwing gravel she gathered herself and attacked me. I hid behind a four inch pipe post set in concrete and she covered me with snot and slobber before ricocheting off and colliding with the main gate chained to the trailer. Steve had wisely sought refuge on top of the loading chute and would have truly enjoyed the show had the cow been owned by someone else. Sensing motion between the gate and trailer, the cow began tossing her head back and forth across the security chain. Realizing she had discovered the weakest link, I exploded into the parking lot. The cow kept pounding the gate and then suddenly jumped back into the trailer. I seized the moment, tripped the safety chain and slammed the trailer gate shut, but this brand of trailer does not have a slam latch. While I struggled to lock the gate, the old girl blew back through the trailer gate into the corral tossing me into the parking lot. I quickly grabbed the corral gate and frantically tried to trap her inside. Spotting me pathetically fumbling with the chain the sweet thing hit the gate full force knocking it wide open and bouncing me across the gravel. My last visual was the rear end of a criminally insane cow high-tailing it down the alley towards the center of town. Unbefitting a Christian, I cursed and not quietly.

Steve tore after his cow in his pickup, while I locked up the clinic before jumping in my pickup. Between driving and looking for a cow I called the trophy wife. “Could you give me the number for the Laurel Police Dispatch, we had a crazy cow get loose.” She gave me the number and hung up and this brings me to my point.

Because of curiosity and suspense, for the next couple hours my marriage was 100 percent secure and would remain such until I got home and finished my story. Druann could have discovered every evil skeleton in my closet, but she would not leave me until I told what happened to the wild cow…and neither will you. Regardless the feedback in tainted letters to the editor, no readers will cancel their subscriptions until I finish this story in next week’s column. The relationship between writer and reader is similarly secured by curiosity and suspense.


 
 
 
 
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