Milk Cow Riding Wreck Retold,
But Only After Several Years

By Curt Brummett

Have you ever noticed how thinking-type ranch kids can come up with a solution for just about any problem that seems to prevent them from having fun?

Well, the other day, I was visiting with a couple of friends at the Ruidoso Cowboy Symposium. We got to talking about how tough it used to be to get the practice we needed to win at a rodeo and still be ready to win after we got there.

I never did try to ride the rough stock. Since birth, I have had the most dreaded and feared of all cowboy diseases, the only known cure for which is practice.

But I couldn't stand the practice. It hurt me. It bruised me and it didn't help my own personal self-esteem. I figured like Baxter what's-his-face once said, "If you want to win in the rough stock events, you must practice. If you want to survive a car wreck, you must practice."

Well, I can't afford the equipment to practice car wrecks, so I'll just let the good Lord decide if I survive one. And just to be perfectly honest with you, I never gave a flying rip if I ever won a rough stock event.

I did, however, want to win a couple of the timed events.

When I was a kid, I wanted to rope like Sonny Davis, Glen Franklin, Sonny Wright, Cotton Lee and a few other sure-nuff good ropers.

Practice stock for ropers can be expensive — or free. It depends on where you are working.

I have on occasion been with a cowboy or two on different ranches who forced me to rope calves and steers in the pasture or to rope the neighbor’s cattle, especially when the boss was not to be seen anywhere.

I did this because of peer pressure, not because I really liked to rope more than anything else in the world. (If you believe that, stand on your head and stack marbles.)

When I was living in town, there was a time or two that my practice stock varied considerably.

Yep, I have roped goats, sheep, one turkey, Shetland ponies, burros and one German Shepherd (a dog, not a foreign keeper of sheep). I practiced on my kid sister, a couple of girlfriends and the neighborhood kids, of course, and calves and steers when the finances were right.

That's why I didn't get all that upset when this friend of mine told me about one of his impromptu practice sessions. I know the story to be a fact, because in 1973 I was working with Sonny Coleman from Stamford on a yearling outfit just south of Dalhart.

Sonny was one of the best all-around hands I have ever worked with. He was good with young horses, and he could sure as hell rope, not to mention ride a bucking horse. Sonny was a pretty damn good cowboy.

Sonny told me about a time when he and one of his rodeo partners had stopped at Sonny's dad's place for a couple of days of rest before going to a pretty big local rodeo.

They wanted to win the saddle bronc riding and roping pretty bad, and got to talking about needing some practice. Sonny's dad had a fairly low opinion of rodeo cowboys and flat-out refused to even consider furnishing any practice stock.

No problem.

Eventually, Sonny's dad went to town to do whatever dads do when they don't want to be around rodeo bums. And naturally, Sonny and his friend took advantage of the situation.

Now, all they wanted was something that would give them a warm-up session, so to speak, and get them ready for the rodeo that night.

They found it.

Sonny's dad had a big old stout-looking milk cow penned up. It was decided that she would be the saddle bronc.

That was not the smartest decision either of them ever made.

Sonny told me they got her rode — finally — but the price was a way yonder higher than they really wanted to pay. He never did go into any great detail, but the picture I had in my own mind was worth it.

This year at Ruidoso I heard the rest of the story from Monte Paxton, who was the friend with Sonny that day.

Monte told me they waited till Sonny's dear old dad was out of sight and the dust started to settle on the road. Then they headed for the cow pen. There stood this dairy cow of mixed blood, and she seemed to be saying, "You can't ride me."

Well, they got her snubbed up and saddled, and Monte was to try her first.

Now this was a typical cow pen. Had a hay rack in the middle of it, one water trough, a couple of wood feed troughs and six to eight half-barrels lying around.

They got to noticing this old gentle cow was developing a rather nasty attitude as they were getting the saddle on her.

Monte got mounted, Sonny turned her loose, she went nuts, and the practice session went to hell.

Monte told me he has ridden some pretty bad buckers in his time (not many, but a few) but he has never ridden anything that bucked like that old gentle cow.

She exploded, got serious, then attacked Sonny. She hooked Sonny and threw him into the hay rack, then proceeded to throw herself down on Sonny and turn the hay rack over. This in turn kind of bruised old Monte up a little. He was still in the saddle.

I guess she decided to try and wash old Monte off by bucking into the water trough. Monte said he had never ridden a bucker through a complete front flip before. They escaped the water trough and started tearing up the wood feed troughs and old Sonny.

When it was all said and done, Sonny was crippled up and had imprints of rebar all over him. Monte was soaked and had very few clothes left on him. He thinks he lost his shirt when she bucked through the barn wall.

They finally got the saddle off and the pen looking semi-normal just as Sonny's dad got back. They managed to get cleaned up and act like nothing had ever happened. He said the hardest part was acting like they weren't stove up.

They did get in Mr. Coleman’s good graces by explaining they were just going to watch the rodeo, not get in it.

Monte said that little session taught him a very important lesson. That lesson being — if you're gonna practice on bucking stock, get the hay rack moved and drain the water trough.