More improbable Louis P. tales

[Ryan@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx]

Bob:
>We have all been lied to and betrayed by our so called "leaders". The point
>is now that we realise this to find away to smash them for what they
>represent. Louis did not save my ass, in fact it was some smart street kids
>and hookers who were supporting the Cuban revolution who did that!

Just some irony, Bob, not insensitivity.

Besides during the years in question, Louis was working as a hand on a cattle
ranch just west of Butte. And a damn good hand he was.

Now ranching is no sluggard's job. There is no other job so insistent, so
exacting in its demands. Like Tennyson's brook, it goes on forever, Louis was
fond of saying. Hawberry thorns scratch your legs. A box elder bough brushes
your hat off. Boggy ground slows up your horse. But the drive goes on.
Finally at sunset, the last remaining critters are off the trail and safe in
the barn.

Other dudes recall nobody could coax a bleating stray calf back to the herd
like Louis could. He thought even a commomplace thing as a cow-path was a
record worth study and musing. The same path is followed year after year, and
if obliterated by plowing and later the field is again returned to pasture,
it will be reestablished on the same course. Louis explained that the cow is
a past-master in the engineering art of choosing the easiest grade between
two points. Amazing.

Louis was a relentless collector of data, especially on Herefords. In fact
because of his work and technical skills, there is a Hereford Sire Summary
now available to cattlemen on the WorldWide Web. This interactive site allows
users to search for bulls. Soon anyone looking for Red Dutch Belted semen may
be able to find it using this technology.

And the cow jumped over the moon.

Sally





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