tyson

i had a friend who lived in the artillary peaks with his wife on a ranch she inherited, it had been in her family 3 or  4 generations. it was a great place! one road into the house, no others. if got around it was horse back. the old pack trail from wickenburg to the minning town of sentenal ran through there in solid rock that trail was wore a foot deep and just wide enough for a mule or horse. my friend art worked that ranch with his wife and sister in law, very seldom hiring help. i got to go help a few times, it was a treat. his wife patsey cooked on a wood stove, and i mean it was good. the water came from a spring, into the house in a half inch pipe, through the wall and ended with a faucet over a bucket with a dipper in it.  the bunk house was down in the creek bottom and was spotless. lanterns were the illumination of choice altho therewere a few kerosene lamps in the main house.   heat was a fire place and the cook stove. the house was adobe so in the summer if you left the windows open it was always cool.  art used a lot of dogs, catch dogs, as a lot of arts cattle were a little tough to hold up by your self. his main dog at that time was a big red merled dog he called tyson. he was named after a friends son. 
  this one day we were out lookin for a old wild cow that art was w
anting to ship to the sale . we had rode for hours, hoppin from pinnicle to pinicle , prowlin the highest most inaccesable areas of the ranch. finally art pulled up and got down on a rock with his binoculars. after about ten minutes he quietly said there she is. after following his finger pointing accross the canyon i coyld make out a red spot on a ledge.
      after riding for another a hour we came up on the ledge. it was about ten feet wide and maybe sistey long this shelly old cow was laying on the far end , drooling, her eyes sunk in her skull.  this cow would never make the trip to the house let alone to pheonix. she was done. she heaved  to her feet and immediatly went on the fight. before anyone could say anything tyson boiled by and grabbed this old nellie by the nose. tyson weighed a good 100 pounds that old poor cow probably 700.  as tyson sat back to hold the cow she started walking backwards. she was draggin the dog and bawlin at the same time. the dog was settin back for all he was worth. art shook his head and just above a whisper called tysons name. the dog simply opened his mouth. that old cow fell over backwards , over the cliff, killed her graveyard dead.  art sat there , rolled a cigarette and then turned his horse back to the house, chalk up one for tyson was all he said.