"We were Heroes"

Georgia summers are always hot and dusty.  Barefooted kids don't mind if their feet are coated with the red dirt. In someways it cushions the feet so you don't mind the rocks as you race from one adventure to another.  We loved summer.  School was out and our cousins from Florida would come spend a few weeks at our house, and we were in a world where it was fun from dewy morning to lightening bug nights.

This was one of the best summers ever.  My cousins, Bruce and Earl, lived across the dirt road from us.  My brother Dwayne was old enough to traverse the fields with the older cousins.  Tom, Dick, and Susie were visiting from Florida.  It was just great!  Those hot summer days were filled with secrets, visit from cousins Carol and Nancy, giggles, scary stories, and awesome adventures.

We had been playing all morning.  The fields were covered with broom straw, the pastures were green with patches of brown dying grass from the hot sun, and little children.  We were everywhere!  Daddy's old milk cow was in the pasture, but we hadn't seen her all morning.  That was really not that unusual, because we tried to stay out of her way.

The boys decided to go down to the creek.  There was a strip of trees on the other side of the pasture near the creek.  That's the place where this mystery begins.

As the boys approached the tree line, they noticed it hanging from the tree.  At first they couldn't tell what it was, but as they moved closer they realized it was the long tail of the cow.  The hairs on one end of the tail were knotted in the tree.  The bloody knob was hanging down.  Surely something had attacked the cow and jerked her tail right off!

It took some doing to get the tail from the tree limb where it was tangled and knotted.  How could this have happened?  What animal could have done this to the cow?  Was there a huge human like creature out there just waiting for livestock and little children.  It had attacked the cow, and we just knew we were going to be next!  Fear made its way into ever fiber of our being that day.  The trophy tail was displayed over and over again as the boys marched throughout the neighborhood with the proof that something lurked out there in the woods.

The mailman came and seven barefoot children and one bloody cow's tail met him.  The story was growing with each telling.  We were sure that children were going to be next.  It must have dragged the old milk cow away because we couldn't find her anywhere.  This creature that attacked the cow was going to be back and carry one of us away.  When our dads got home, they were going to contact the authorities and hunt this creature down and kill it.  The mailman left our mailboxes with news of this creature. He could spread the word to other families and save their livestock and children.  We were heroes!  Now everyone would be prepared and the community would be saved!

The cow was discovered by my dad with a severe infection in the nub of what was left of her tail.  The infection got into the blood stream and eventally killed her.  Daddy tried to save her life, but just couldn't.  The story of that afternoon is true.  The cow had lost her tail and gave us a chance to exercise our over active imaginations.  It gave us a chance to save our community from the unknown forces at work pulling tails off of cows by giving the the folks an early warning about what could possibly be out there stalking the community.

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for the adults in our lives who listened to our stories and let us enjoy our imaginations.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Never carry a cow's tail (or any other body part of an animal) around on a hot Georgia day.  It will begin to stink.