Although
lengthy, this is my favorite political story about a famous incident that
occurred many decades ago in Wyoming’s Absaroka County. It occurred back in the
times when there were foxhunts and even a drawbridge on the Tongue River.
It seems
that a farm woman called a veterinarian in Durant from her home in Absaroka County
about her mule, Bernard. Bernard was ill, and the lady was very upset.
“Doctor”
she said, “Bernard is sick and I wish you would come and take a look at him.”
“It`s after
6 p.m., and I’m eating supper,” the doctor protested. “Give him a dose of
mineral oil and if he isn’t all right in the morning, I’ll come and take a look
at him.”
The woman
asked how she should give Bernard the mineral oil, and the doctor said to give
it to him through a funnel. She said she was afraid the mule might bite her.
“You’re a
farm woman and you know about these things,” the doctor said. “Give it to him
through the other end.”
The woman
went down to the barn. There was Bernard moaning and groaning in his misery.
Few things get sicker than a mule.
She looked
for a funnel, but the nearest thing she could find was her Uncle Bill’s foxhunting
bugle -– a beautiful gold-plated instrument with gold tassels.
She took
the bugle and nervously affixed it to the proper portion of the mule’s anatomy.
Bernard was unperturbed. Still eyeing the mule, she reached behind her for the
mineral oil.
Unfortunately, she picked up a bottle of
turpentine by mistake and gave the unfortunate Bernard a very liberal dose.
Bernard’s
drooping head jerked upright. His eyes widened. He screamed like a panther,
jumped up, kicked down one side of the barn and took off down the road at a mad
gallop. The bugle was still affixed in his rear.
Every time
he jumped, the hunting horn would blow.
All the
dogs in the neighborhood knew what that meant. The horn was blowing, so Uncle
Bill was going fox hunting. Soon Bernard had a pack of hounds in full cry
behind him.
Those who
witnessed the chase said it was an unforgettable scene.
There was Bernard, running at top speed, with
the hunting horn protruding behind him. The mellow notes were issuing from the
instrument, the gold tassels were flying and the dogs were barking joyously in
full pursuit.
Old Man
Hogan, who hadn’t drawn a sober breath in 15 years, was sitting on the front
porch as the spectacle swept past him. He gave up whiskey that day and later
became active in the temperance movement.
It was good
and dark by the time Bernard and the dogs reached the drawbridge on the Tongue River.
The
bridge-tender, who was running for Sheriff of Absaroka County and was heavily
favored to win, heard the horn and thought a boat was coming.
The
bridge-tender hurriedly raised the drawbridge.
Bernard ran right up the span, sailed into the water and drowned. The
pack of dogs went right in behind him, but they all swam to safety. The hunting
horn went down with Bernard and was never recovered.
Stories
spread fast in that part of Absaroka County, and everybody knew about the
incident by the next morning.
It so
happened the election for Sheriff was occurring that day.
The
bridge-tender received exactly seven votes -– one from himself, and the others
from six close relatives.
Political
analysts interpreted the election as follows:
The voters
figured that any man who didn’t know the difference between a boat coming up
the Tongue River and a mule with a bugle up his rear end wasn’t fit to hold
public office in Absaroka County.
(Post script: This is a plagiarized version
of a story first told by Richard Walser in a book called Tar Heel Laughter. Plus our apologies to Craig Johnson of Longmire
fame.)
(Post-post
script: Wyoming is in the throes of an
interesting and vibrant primary election campaign. We would recommend readers make themselves
acquainted with all the candidates.
These are good men and women and they really want to go to work for
you. Pay attention to their messages and
then be sure to vote on Aug. 21.)
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