Mud and Blood

With the extra chromosome given to the mule as if a gift, by its father, they are at times firm in their convictions. A parallel to, "The Boy named Sue" song, they have been part of western and in fact world history through the ages. You see their father "The Jackass" gave them this extra baggage so that the civilized people of our planet could expand, upon the backs of these beasts. Sturdy, strong, dependable, surefooted and notably defiant when harm to itself is in the way.


Like General Crook the famous fighter of The Indian Wars, my father preferred the mule as mount of choice. He had a few that really stood out among the many he owned. This story is about Four Eyes. She had two pink eyes that were almost difficult to look at. They seemed to have a never ending flow of matter dripping from them. Her gait was unrivaled. She could cover country as if the miles were mere feet. Her ears bobbed in time with a drummer somewhere above the ridges she so easily climbed. She is solid white in color, giving her a contrast to any setting other than a complete blizzard. Her mood always gave one the feeling she was a step ahead of even your own thoughts. My father had brought my brother and a close friend up the mountain that day to angle out a few trout, from a crystal clear, deep, crag embedded lake. One obstacle lay between a bent rod, jubilation, and a good time had by all. Four was refusing her long time master and friend, due to a mud bog no farther across than one could toss a feed sack. Yeltsin and Reagan met that day,there at that little seep spring. The Cold War Ended, I am sure shortly after this event took place. Something that had been brewing some 15 + years came to a head. Silver spurs began to let fly. Rommel poppers began to smack, like Kentucky squirrel rifles at Valley Forge. Four, however was unimpressed, she stood her ground completely knowing that there were China men just below the surface of this nasty bog. The battle raged for at least 20 long and grueling minutes. Hoace Grasie and Dan Severne locked in a cage match in Madison Square Garden. As if a whistle blown at the end of Super Bowl XXII, the battle ended. Blood now began to drip to the trail beneath this glorious steed of such a nobleman. Who as if on cue from a set director, my father said," I can't spur anymore, my legs are cramped".