The other week I was wondering: Did anyone else see a li'l ol' herd of cattle wandering the residential streets of the north side of town?
I was kicking back in my recliner, The Lady of the House was in the kitchen when son Justin, just up from a mid-day doze walked into the living room.
"I think I'm really going crazy," Justin said.
"Oh?" I said. I was not surprised. I have not forgotten life at age 30, many a-time I thought I was going nuts myself.
"I'm coming home at 3 a.m. and as I turn the corner I see something up ahead," said Justin. "I thought it was a bunch of joggers then I realized they were cows, about a dozen of 'em. They were just moving down the street at a nice casual pace."
"Was there a cowboy too?" asked The Lady of the House.
"No. Behind them was a little white car flashing its headlights," he continued. "They passed me, so close I could hear them breathing and snorting. Then just like that…" he snapped his fingers, "… they were gone."
There was a bit of silence in the Stucco Hacienda.
"Maybe you're under a lot of stress," said The Lady of the House.
"You know," I said. "Why don't you go back to where you saw them and look for some evidence like cow poop or something like that."
Later that day Justin came back into the house with a big grin on his face.
"Evidence," he said.
"You brought us cow poop?" I asked.
"No. There are hoofprints in the dirt," he said. "I'm not crazy after all."
A couple of days later the newspaper published the police reports from that time and it was full of calls about cattle loose on the town.
"Life in The West," I said to The Lady of the House.
Grant McGee is a long-time broadcaster and former truck driver who rides bicycles and likes to talk about his many adventures on the road of life. Contact him at: