Run, run, get-around and let’s get at ’em!!    Here I come, lickety-split, lickety-split, lickety-split!!   I’m barking my head off in all the Texas talk I can muster for these tired old black bags of beef…just look at this bunch of overfed bovines munching and crunching.   I swear they’re the size of those C-O-W-S they have on the Chick-fil-a television commercials.   Eat more chickin’, if you will.   And I might!

Whoopee-ti-yi-yo, git along little doggies!   Head ’em up, Move ’em out!!  Circle up those wagons, girls, the Red Man wants you to get a move on!!   I’m talking RIGHT NOW, Missies – let’s hear those hooves move!!   Can you believe it??   I have this WHOLE herd loping like the Devil himself is after them.   I mean, let me tell you, they are on the run, and moi is as effective as any of those so-called “herding dogs” in the Westminster Kennel Club.   Oh, yeah.   Eat your heart out, Ollie, the famous Old English Sheepdog and you, too, Annie,  Ms. I’m- part- Shetland Sheepdog.   I guess you can only herd sheep, huh?   Heh, heh.   When it comes to running C-O-W-S, never send a boy to do a man’s job.   Yee haw, life is the best when you’re riding the range and rounding up the herd!   I wish I had a ROPE to smack a few fannies while I’m at it!!

 Oh, give me a home where the black Angus roam and the Peeps are asleep in their graves.   Where seldom is heard a discouraging word and Slow cannot catch me today.   Ha, ha.   I can multi-task with songs and wrangling at the same time.   I must be some kind of genius cowboy…whoa, Nellie!   Hey, where is everybody?   I think I’ve run to the Edge of the Universe out here.   Hmmm…do I want to spend the rest of my life with these black creatures?   No way.   I’d better stop all this barking and try to find Slow and Smiley Boy and the pretend herding dogs.   Oh, there they are way off in the distance.   Now, that’s pathetic.   Slow and SB are still standing at the cemetery fence, and they’re waving their hands and arms in this frantic motion.   I think I see Chelsea and Ollie and Annie running up and down the fence, too.   Well, well, I should dash back and relieve their anxiety.   Goodbye, girls – it’s been a blast!   Moo, moo, moo to you, too!!    You might want to try for an upgrade on those language skills.   I’m afraid your vocabulary is severely lacking.

 I’m coming, Slow.   Don’t you worry that snow white hair of yours.   I return to the scene of my crime, and all is well once again.   Hey, guys, once I find that spot where I escaped, you can haul me under the fence and welcome me into the fold.  Hi, Slow.   Hi, Smiley Boy.   Yippee – look at me – I’m back!

Hey, wait a minute…what’s this I see?   Look over there, will you?   Geez, Louise.   Those are two of the BIGGEST C-O-W-S I’ve ever seen.   And I thought the other ones were impressive.   Whistle, whistle, whistle.   Seriously – these are the Real Deal.   Oh, my.   I believe I see why.   Say farewell to the gal pals I chased around the pasture for fun.   Can we talk BULLS?   Yikes – hing, hang, hung!!   Go on with your Bad Selves.   I see a Bad Moon Rising for moi.  

Adios, Slow and SB!   I’m thinking it’s time for a little mano a mano.   Oh, yeah.   Woo hoo!!   I’m running with the bulls as of right now.   Aqui, Toro.   Toro??   Toro???   I must be spending too much time with Smiley Boy.   Either that, or I’ve watched The Sun Also Rises one too many times with Slow.   I am the Red Man, El Matador.   Watch me work these Big Boys like a pro.   I will employ my main weapon, my ear-splitting barking, with my secondary missile, my Nascar speed.   A deadly combination for the bulls.

Aha.   Picture the biblical account of the small David against the giant Goliath, and you have a mental image of my epic battle with the bulls!   El Toro Numero Uno understood the war games and became my Major Adversary while Numero Dos simply stared in disbelief.   I believe I saw his eyes glaze over.   Although I didn’t have David’s slingshot, my barking and agility created the fury of Goliath in Bull Number One, and he kicked at me with his back legs and butted at me with that gigantic head and horns and then ran at me when I dodged his blows.  

I chased his ass through the pasture down to a group of trees close to where the C-O-W-S had been grazing when we first arrived.   He ran into the trees to get away from me, but I kept on barking as loud as I could and circling him while he kicked and butted.   The more he kicked, the louder I barked.   I will get you, you son of a bitch!   Get you, get you, get you!!!   You don’t scare me, you don’t scare me, you don’t scare me!!!

 I vaguely heard the sounds of yells in the distance.   I thought it might be Slow saying something like Red, you’d better get back here because that Bull is going to kill you.   Then I heard honking noises from the truck, and I looked over the fence to see that Slow and SB had driven the truck closer to the fence nearer the woods where I had cornered the Bull.   I caught a glance of the other dogs sitting bolt upright staring out the windows of the truck, but they weren’t making any noise.   They were enthralled by my courage, no doubt.   I had Center Stage.

Well, Amigos, I don’t know what came over me.   I couldn’t stop the vicious cycle of barking and circling.   I knew I should quit and step away from the Bull, but I had lost control.   Yep, lost control.   Once you lose control, you’re Doomed, Doomed, Doomed.   I chased that Bull all over the pasture, and I never looked back again.   The Fickle Finger of Fate intervened, however, and the next thing I knew Smiley Boy had climbed the fence and walked across the pasture to fetch me.   The battle was over, and I had won!   That Bull was happier to see SB than I was, for sure.   Frankly, I think I could have stayed out there another hour.   Time had stood still.

However, I was unceremoniously grabbed by Smiley Boy who walked me slowly toward the cemetery fence that was the beginning of my adventures as a Cowboy turned Matador.   And there stood poor old Slow with Ollie and Annie and Chelsea.   SB told Slow that my mouth was bleeding, but that otherwise I appeared to be normal.   Hysterical – my mouth wasn’t bleeding.   I had BITTEN the Bull, you fools!!   Yessiree, that Boy was nursing a wound right at that moment!!

This time SB handed me over the fence to Slow who hugged me and carried on about how I had been snatched from the jaws of Death once again.   Please.   The old woman is such a drama queen.   Danger is my middle name, and I am the Invincible Red Man.   Just ask a certain Bull I know.