Cowboy Corner with Conrad Campbell: Daisy

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Daisy

I have a lot of really fond memories from growing up on the old farm, but one night in particular stands out in my mind more than any other. A night that I learned a valuable lesson that would take me in my journey of life from a boy to a young man.

Daisy had always been my favorite cow. When she was little I would feed her handfuls of green grass through the fence and I’d always make sure she had an extra bale of straw at night so she wouldn’t get cold. A morning after a chilly rain would find me at Daisy’s side, drying her off and giving her a good combing.

In the spring of 1976, Daisy had grown to be a fine young girl. I would put a harness on her and take her for walks up the lane and back. She was always well behaved and happy. But one day before our walk, Daisy began to act strangely. She didn’t want to go out and was sweating a lot. I got pretty scared and took her back to the barn and led her into the big stable. She slumped down on her side right away, and seemed frightened and confused. I remember staying with her for hours, patting her soft head and letting her know everything would be okay. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Dad. “There’s nothing wrong with Daisy”, he said. “You see, she’s a big girl now and she’s going to have a calf of her own. I know you want to help, but it’s best you come inside and let nature take its course. She’ll be fine son, trust me”. And with that I reluctantly went into the house with Dad.

Mum was at the stove stirring a large pot and said, “Oh, you must be starving! Sit down, I just made a nice stew”.

“No thanks Mum,” I replied, “I’m worried about Daisy. I think I’ll go up to bed. Thanks anyway”.

I lay in my room for what seemed like hours before I drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, I was awakened by a loud clamour from the barn. I could hear loud cries and moans from the stable. I raced down the stairs in my pajamas and threw on some old boots and sped off as fast as my feet could carry me. As I neared the barn the sounds grew louder, and, as I threw open the big door, I couldn’t believe my eyes! There on the stable floor, right in front of me, was my drunken Uncle Mike having sex with the lady who drove the school bus when the regular bus driver couldn’t do it.

The very next day I bought a guitar and a silk shirt with super fancy embroidered butterflies on it and headed out on my journey to become a booze runnin’ motor gunnin’ law breakin’ love makin’ rebel.

The End