• Bronze
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I was about 12 when we were treating calves for pinkeye. We , the family, had crowed this 200 pound calf in a corner and Dad warned us not to let this calf get past no matter what. Dad was not to be taken lightly. That calf went to dart past me and I just locked my arms around its neck and held on for the ride. It finally stopped after about 75 feet with me jammed up against a barb wire fence. My younger brothers thought it was a great display of cowboying. I just knew that calf wouldn’t hurt me as bad as disappointing Dad would.

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