Mosquitoes

[LukkyKnight]

Originally said outside a Red Cross building:

'It's not fair,' said one to the other. 'They're happy to lie down and let someone drain a pint of blood, but if we zoomed down for a quick sip, they'd do their best to kill us.'

 

[BoobsNBrains]

Mosquitos: the state bird of Minnesota.

 

[bknight2602]

Mosquitos: the state bird of Minnesota.

LMAO

And the FAA directs their flight path!

 

[LukkyKnight]

Originally found at http://hal.lamar.edu/~ie_dmp/writ/brushpile.html

After two years, Ole Brushpile had never been penned, and all the rest of the cattle had been wormed, vaccinated for Lepto, blackleg, and the other disease of the season, and sprayed for files and mosquitoes regularly. But not Ole Brushpile, and this summer, the mosquitoes were BAD. I've seen swarms of mosquitoes come out of the marsh so dense that a horse couldn't be forced through them, and I once saw a newborn calf die from what I believe was choking to death on inhaled mosquitoes from such a swarm. The boss said it was time for Ole Brushpile to get doctored.

We penned on a Saturday as usual, but let Brushpile take to the brush and we went ahead with the cattle down to the pens. But when the last bunch of cattle was in the pens, the boss sent 10 riders, good ropers all, back to find Brushpile. He'd been in the Cornfield Pasture, and they'd noted where he'd gone. They got lucky; he'd resumed grazing in the open and they got a shot at him. When they all bolted through the gate of the 100 acre Cornfield Pasture, he'd only had a second to apprise his condition and he made at a dead run for a little gas mound on which were growing three Gum tree saplings about three feet apart. The pasture was muddy, the top of the gas mound was high and hard, and Brushpile stood with his butt sticking out, but his head centered between the three saplings. Several ropes were tossed at him, but he seemed to know how to throw his head up as if scratching against one of the gum trees, and none of the loops made it over his neck. One of the younger boys decided that since the bull was otherwise not fighting, he'd just ride up and drag his loop over the bull's neck. As soon as he approached, Brushpile swung around and charged the horse, hitting him in the chest and knocking horse and rider for a loop as the horse struggled to spin around and keep his feet under him. Before eyes were off the spinning horse, Brushpile was back in the three saplings. Another rider decided that he would try it, and his horse got broadsided and knocked over on him. Luck was with him, no bones broken, but his horse was convinced that the bull was to be given lots of leeway and wouldn't go close again.

Consensus was that there was a problem. Problem was than none of them wanted to get close enough to try to throw a rope between Brushpile and the three saplings, so they finally decided to try to rope the saplings and pull them back out of the way. This exercise would have easily won the best of American Home Videos, but alas, this was 1973. After two of the five meter tall saplings had been roped, they were pulled back with the horses and Brushpile was more exposed. One of the several ropes thrown at him was finally popped over his neck and the fight was on. As soon as he realized that he had a rope on him, he took off and tried to drag the little Quarterhorse along with him. When the horse dug in, he charged towards the horse, and it was just luck that Bill, the math teacher who won jackpot roping on a regular basis, managed to get the second loop on Brushpile. With two ropes on a critter, you can "stretch him out" so he can't charge the other rider. But you better trust the other rider to take up slack when the critter comes after you.

I'd have left him for the mosquitoes.