Cowboy stories are strewn with wrecks. Horse wrecks, cow wrecks, financial wrecks, Rex Allen, and Tyrannoeohippus Rex. And although one could make them up, it’s not necessary. They are a daily occurrence.

WHEN NATURE CALLS

Russell asked me if I’d ever heard of a flyin’ mule. “You mean parachuting Democrats?” I asked.

He and a neighbor had hired a couple of day work cowboys to help round up cows on the Black Range in southeastern Arizona. Billy, one of the cowboys, brought a young mule to “tune up” durin’ the weeklong gather. When they had ridden the saddled mule through the Willcox auction ring, he’d looked pretty good. But afterward when Billy went to load him, he got his first inkling that all was not as it appeared.

The sale barn guys had the mule stretched out and lyin’ down between a post and a heel rope. “To take the saddle off,” they explained. “He’s fine once yer mounted, but you can’t get near him when yer on the ground!”

First morning of the roundup, Billy managed to get Jughead saddled. He had to rope him and tie a foot up to get it done. Then they all sat around for two hours drinkin’ coffee till sunup.

As they left the headquarters at daylight, Billy made arrangements to meet Russell at a visible landmark. With all that coffee he’d been drinkin’, he knew a “call of nature” was imminent and he’d need help gettin’ back on Jughead.

Billy gathered a handful of critters but missed the landmark. By then his kidneys were floating.

The country was rough and brushy. He spotted a ten-foot scraggly pine on the edge of a four-foot embankment. It gave Billy an idea. Not a good idea, but remember, he was desperate and he was a cowboy.

He dropped his lasso around the saddle horn and rode up next to the tree. He passed the rope around the trunk and dallied onto the horn. The plan was to snug Jughead up close, get off, do his business, then remount.

The plan went awry.

Jughead started buckin’ around the tree on the long tether. He made two passes before Billy lost his dally. Brush and cactus, pine boughs, and colorful epithets filled the air! With each ever-tightening circle, the rope climbed higher up the trunk. The higher they climbed, the more time they spent airborne.

Jughead was hoppin’ like a kangaroo when the treetop bent and the uppermost coils peeled off. Mule and cowboy were midair when they hit the end of the line. Jughead went down and Billy spilled into the arroyo.

Almost on cue, Russell came crashin’ up outta the creek bottom, “Mount up, Billy. We need help!”

Billy’s hat was down around his ears, and he looked like he’d bitten off the end of his nose.

“Uh, go ahead and shake the dew off your lily,” said Russell generously. “I guess we’ve got time.”

Billy labored to one knee. “Never mind,” he said, “I went in flight.”