The old flag was tattered, and once a month (whether it needs it or not) a new flag must be hung in its place. It was a clear, crisp winters day in texas. The sun was winking its merry old face upon us, and my dog samwise was inspecting the fine job I was doing. The birds were singing from up high, and a herd of cattle began meandering their way over to my location, I suppose to further inspect my handiwork (hanging a texas flag garners a lot of attention here, across species even).
Now, let me state that while we do have cows we don’t have a lot, compared to a typical texas ranch, probably about 20. however if you’ve ever played chicken with a herd of 20 full grown cows you’d realize its nothing to shake a stick at. Also, while my dog was helping he lacks opposable thumbs, so I had to do all the work. Its difficult when you realize that allowing a texas flag to touch the ground is tantamount to treason. The required punishment is impaling yourself on a bowie knife while singing ‘deep in the heart of texas’ as the light slowly dims from your eyes.
I had just folded the old flag into a proper boy scout triangle, and the first ring of the new flag was clipped onto the pole, things were looking up.
‘bruh,’ samwise posited.
In case you don’t know my dog samwise has developed a modified language. Bruh is samwise for, ‘pardon me my good man, but I do suspect something queer is afoot.’
The herd had moved eerily close to our location. It was quite obvious that they didn’t like us intruding into their territory, or something like that. I double checked to make sure I folded the old flag right, yep I had, so it couldn’t be that. Nope, they just plain didn’t like us there. We were cornered against a barb-wire fence.
‘ah sam, don’t you pay them any mind, they’re just curious is all. Here, does it look like I hung this right, I’m not sure if yo…’
‘BRUH.’ Samwise retorted. Ignoring my complacency sam leapt toward the cows, sending the cows in front lurching back as the cows in back kept trotting forward. The midherd collision caused massive bovine confusion and cattle chaos.A mighty lone bull separated himself out from the herd, and met eye to eye with a defiant sam. Sams mighty dog bark echoed off the canyon walls, his hair raised, his ears tall, and his chest puffed out. The bull snorted and pawed at the texas clay. It was high noon, and trouble was brewing.
‘now, sam, get back here. You look like a damn rabbit to him. Here, try and hold this old flag, I only have one more clip to…’‘BAROOOOOWWW!!! BRUH, BRUH, BAROOOOOO!’ sam calmly reciprocated.
Now I was faced with a challenging dilemma, one no man should face. On the one hand I had my dog sam, man’s best friend staring steely eyed in the face of danger. It was my prime responsibility to have his back, to protect him no matter what. Even if sam is stirring up his own mess, he’s only trying to protect me, what kind of guy would I be if I just let my dog enter harms way. (let it be noted here that I did protect sam from a ferocious bull dog back in the summer of ’05, but c’mon, a bull?)
On the other hand I was juggling two texas flags, the ol lone star. This is the symbol that represents the Alamo, the battle of san jacinto, sam Houston, Stephen f. Austin, and Kelly Clarkson. It’s LBJ, Ross perot, ron paul, and to a lesser extent george w. bush. It’s the mountains of the big bend, the swamplands in east texas, the hill country in the south, the high plains in the west, and the mighty brazos that flows through em all. Should I just drop them to the mud, surely to be trampled on by a herd of thunderous snorting cattle? I held my breath as the deafening silence grew louder. Somewhere in the distance a crow cawed.
In an instant the two titans leapt toward each other, colliding in a cloud of dust in midair. Sam, mighty as he is, ricocheted off the bull like a gimpy rag doll, a wet piñata, a liberal hippie douche against the mighty forearm of justice. ‘nooooo…’ I bellowed, bleary eyed, but it was too late and of no use. The stampede galloped over him, pounding their razor sharp hooves into the terf, tearing and shredding clumps of sod in their wake. In the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping squall Sam was lost amongst the mud, the dust and the tears. The earth shuddered as the thunderous cattle, black as night and twice as ugly, paraded over the trembling earth. Sam’s shrill cries reverberated off my ears, enveloped in the roaring, howling, death tremor.
‘AIIGH, AIIIGH, AIIEEEEE!!!!’ sam coolly professed.
Just as soon as the whole thing started, it was over. The cattle disappeared over the horizon in a ghostly mist. I clipped the last ring of ol bonnie blue onto the pole and hoisted it up above ground level. Respectfully setting the old flag in the golf cart I ran to sam’s side, my heart pounding in my ears. With half damp eyes, I knelt down beside sam, lying limp on the ground.
‘ah sam, (sniff, sniff) now why’d you have to go and do that. They didn’t mean any trouble, and now (sob, sob, sniff, sneeze, cough) look what you gone and did. (voice increasing to a quivering bellow) Dammit samwise, dammit all to hell!’
I ripped my shirt open revealing a surprisingly well sculpted and chiseled chest, my abs rippling from the emotion. Holding the shards of my shirt in my clenched fists I rared back and fiercely shouted toward the lonesome sky, ‘DAMMIT ALL TO HEEELLLLLLLL!!!!!’
‘bruh’ sam whispered.
‘sam?’ I questioned, ‘sam, is that you?’
sam suddenly rose from the ground, shook the dust off his coat and wagged his tail. ‘sam! Your alright! Why, there’s not a scratch on you!’ sam jumped on my tan and muscular body, licking my face all over. ‘ah, it’s a miracle sam, you ol galoot. It’s a miracle!’
and so, with that, sam and I heroically hoisted the mighty texas flag the rest of the way to the top of the 30 foot flag pole, the brave lone star waving stoically in the whipping texas wind for all the world to see. Scratching his ears, sam and I walked back to the house, sam with his tail wagging and I with my muscles bulging. It was the end of an adventure, and I for one, needed a nap.
The end.
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