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I previously rescued David from burial-at-pond (like burial-at-sea, but on a smaller scale) and I saved Dad from a poison clam, so it was a matter of time before my heroic actions would be called upon again.
On an early spring day, Mom and I sat in the backyard reading near Paula’s playpen. Mom and I read in the dappled sun of a big oak tree’s outer shadow and the playpen hugged the trunk in full shade.
Dad and David were shooing heifers outside the barn. Cooped up inside all winter, this was the first time outdoors for the young cows.
A loud crash suddenly interrupted our rural reading tranquility. A heifer plowed through the barbwire fence separating the pasture from our backyard, and it was stampeding straight for baby Paula.
Mom jumped up and ran to get Paula. I sprang up and ran toward the charging beast, yelling and waving my arms wildly. The distraction worked. The heifer changed course from Paula to me. The idea of climbing up a tree barely passed through my head when time ran out, and I was trampled.Mom scooped up Paula and hurried to see how badly I was injured. The wind was knocked out of me; I couldn’t speak or stand.
The young cow ran back along the fence-line and continued toward the barn. By then, Dad and David were outside to corral it. Mom screamed to Dad as he closed the gate on the mad cow.
“Freddy, hurry! Mary’s hurt.”
He ran to see what happened, followed closely by David. My breath came back as they arrived. I was bruised and sore from the hoofs, but no bones were broken.
Describing the event, Mom said, “Mary probably saved Paula from being seriously injured. There was no way I could reach Paula before the heifer.”
Dad and David seemed impressed.
“Why would it do that?” I asked. “It charged right at us.”
Dad explained, “Once in a great while, the change from inside all winter to outside causes a heifer’s eyesight to temporarily invert. It drives them crazy until their eyes have time to adjust and go back to normal.”
I didn’t care what caused the heifer to go crazy; I was a hero. I should consider getting a cape.
Lesson learned: The greatest hero is one who doesn’t blow his own horn. I couldn’t help tooting a little bit.
Now it’s your turn: Have you ever been trampled?
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