07/11/07 Sloppy job

There are times when a person's best efforts aren't incorporated in the job at hand. I'm Jeff Keane; I'll be back in one minute to tell you abut one of those times. My Dad was a hard-working man who took pride in his work and enjoyed it, but then that's my perspective as his son. Of course, I didn't know him when he was younger and maybe not quite as conscientious. One evening after work at the ranch, Dad and one of his buddies decided they absolutely had to go to town to check out the fun. In those years it was way quicker to saddle a horse and ride a couple of miles down steep trails to town than drive the seventeen miles of dirt road and six miles of gravel road to get to the same place. Dad and his buddy had just saddled their horses when Granddad yelled at them to tie up the milk cow before they left. First of all the term milk cow should never have been used for that particular animal since she was only a milk cow because she was the first range cow Granddad ran in to milk that summer and second "tie up the cow" meant tie her horns to one post and her hind foot to another so she couldn't kick the milker's head off. She was not exactly your domesticated family milk cow. Needless to say Dad and company were in hurry and not really concentrating on tying the perfect knot. Before Dad was out of sight and hearing he heard the milk pail get kicked by that reluctant cow and as he looked over his shoulder he saw Grandad bend over to get the pail and take a direct hit from the loosen foot right in the hip pocket. Dad said he just kept riding and didn't come home early that night. I'm Jeff Keane.