It had every potential to be a memorable evening.

Sure, it was the sweet daughter’s last evening at home, before she departed to the eastern part of South Dakota for the coming school year. 

Everyone seemed to be in a good mood.

Yes, my back had a terrible strain in it, and I could hardly walk, but no matter.

The boys were tossing their dry humor up and around, and their nice ladies dutifully rolled their eyes and groaned at the appropriate places.

Mama Jan outdid herself with chicken baked in cream, gourmet potatoes, bread and green beans.

And, if I do admit it, the homemade ice cream that yours truly made seemed par for the course.

The evening was young, and I decided I should probably go check the calves and, pet Bozar the bull, should he deign to permit it.

The sweet daughter put the gold in the evening when she saw me getting onto the four-wheeler and came running out to join me.   

We idled back along the field road, past the tail water pit, and then onto the lane that I had mowed earlier that wends it’s way past some cottonwoods and through towering eight foot tall sunflowers on either side.  The air cooled noticeably when we dipped into the dry drainage ditch.

I spotted the group a little off to the right of where we let the gate down and eased over towards them. 

When I was still a several hundred feet away from them, I started talking quietly to Bozar.  Cattle don’t have very good vision, but they have extremely good smell and hearing. 

“Hey stupid.”  He kicked his head up.

“Hey stupid.  You gonna let me pet you tonight?”  He swung around and looked in our direction, clearly hearing us.

“He stupid, I don’t want you charging me like you did the last time, you hear?”  He threw his head back and lashed out at some flies on his back.

By then, we were 20 feet away from him.  I shut the four wheeler off, and we sat looking at each other.

He blew at us and tossed his head straight up, eyes joking back at us.

I stood up to dismount the four-wheeler.  I noticed the grass where we were parked was at least two feet tall and all grown together.  I told myself to take it easy, my shoes weren’t tied, the grass being so tall, and with my back aching like it was, I wouldn’t have much get away speed if need be.

I walked up to Bozar.  “He stupid, how you doin’?” 

Two pats on his forehead were all I had time for before he lowered his head, and in one single motion, lunged and lifted his head, all in my direction.

I spun around, and in a vain attempt of speed scuffled myself out of there. 

I got to the other side of the four wheeler and looked back to see Bozar laughing fit to kill. 

In fact, I’m not so sure he ended up spitting his cud out, his mouth was gapping so wide.  He had traveled two feet and stopped; his bluff worked like a charm on me.

And, upon a second glance around, I saw the sweet daughter doubled over, completely helpless in the throes of mirth. 

Okay.  I admit it. 

I had to look somewhat strange as I tried to get myself to safety, high stepping over my shoestrings, alternately taking baby steps and leaps as I endeavored to clear the tall grass.  And the little bit of fear I felt didn’t lend grace to my actions, rather making it a herky jerky commotion of too much supper, ice cream and chocolate sauce that needed away from 1,600 black pounds headed in my direction.

But even if it did look that funny, I still don’t think I deserved the rippling, shimmering merriment that I saw dancing in those pretty brown eyes of the sweet daughter as we sat with the family for the rest of the evening.