Travel Tips

My Homeopathic Physician had a ranch in Elisabeth, Colorado (tiny hamlet south of Denver). Diana was a toot and a half. She had entertained many People in her life (including me, luckily). Matter-O-fact, I sat next to Cybil Shepard at a Thanksgiving dinner at her ranch. (This, foregoing all allusions, is true). I didn't even recognise her. Truly. Anyway, I had taken Aahz (the pooch du jour) down there to play with Diana's dogs, he LOVED playing with the other 'play-dates' there since they had about 650 acres to romp on.

Nevertheless, Diana had a soft-spot in her heart for animals being in strange sitcheeations. A small calf had been born in the wrong time of calving (that being mid-February). So, Diana brought the little half-frozen calf to live in her basement. All's well so far. The calf had grown a bit since I was last there (nobody informed me of this), and he had sprouted little horns. (This tid-bit is key).

I asked Diana if I might snag a Pepsi from the basement fridge, she said "sure". Here's the playing field (as it were), basement is about 50' by 25', and is only two steps from the kitchen of the main house. I lumber yay verrily to the fridge, in semi-darkness, grab a Pepsi, and from the nether-regions of the house, hear Diana say, "Oh, yeah. Bossy is down there". (Bossy being the calf, not me). I turn around from the grail, and, yep. It's me and the bul-lette.

I'm at the end of the room, with Pepsi, mind you, and all I have to do is dodge the two tiny horns. The only weapons at my disposal (after surveying the room), is a chilled Pepsi and a white wicker clothes hamper (on my left). Well, "Bossy" turned sour, and was none too happy I was there.

So, I dodged and darted in an attempt to avoid sure goring by said calf/bull and reached said hamper (it was really cute that the calf did the little 'hoof-digging thing"). I whacked the calf with the hamper, and all that did was impale itself on the calf's tiny horns as a sort of 'Kafka-esque' Sunday bonnet, just askew enough to garner some snide, if not hysterical, glances from no one in particular.

The rest is history, and I got my Pepsi.
Jeff-