Then there was the time I hit a cow in the middle of the road....
When we lived in Oglethorpe, Georgia I was often on the road to Perry, Americus, Warner Robins and other " major metropolitan" areas.
Taylor's best friend, Allison, lived about sixty-five miles north of us in Gray, Georgia. That was quite a distance for her family or mine to drive, so we would often meet somewhere in between to pick up or drop off one of the girls.
One night I was making the drive to meet the Maynards in Perry and return Allison to her family. It was an exceedingly dark and moonless night, as I headed down Hwy 127.
For all you cityfolk, you need to understand that there are no neon signs, no businesses, no street lights, nothing on many of these roads. When it's dark, it is black as pitch.
This was one of those nights. I could see nothing but the small area illuminated by my minivan's beams.
I was going about 60 mph when suddenly, there in the glow of my headlights, I see a cow. A solid black cow. He is not coming at me head on; if so, maybe he would have the sense to get out of the way. Rather, his tail is in front of me as he is sauntering so nonchalantly down the blacktop.
His peaceful evening stroll, however, is about to be interrupted in the worst of ways.
I graze him and run off the road and into a nearby corn field. I am shaken, the kids are screaming and crying. And the cow is lying motionless in the middle of the road.
After a moment of inspection, we all seem to be okay. No cuts or bruises to any of the humans. Sorry, I can't say the same for that cow.
Law enforcement arrives quickly and I give my statement. And with a little illumination from a patrolman's flashlight, I can see that my van has sustained only minor damage. I am able to drive away and return Allison safely to her parents.
The next morning, I was working in the kitchen. Caleb, who was four years old at the time, was outside happily playing in the yard. Suddenly, Caleb runs into the kitchen with a look of disbelief on his sweet little face.
"You have to come see this, Mama," he says. And off we go to the carport.
When we got to my van, Caleb pointed to the driver-side view mirror. It had been smashed and was attached only by a couple of wires and some shredded plastic. Dangling there from the broken mirror of my minivan was the tail of that black cow.
I had ripped that sucker's tail clean off his backside.
I usually get a lot of laughs and disbelieving looks when I tell the tale of the tail of the black cow. But, it is 100% true. All beef. No baloney. Some things are too strange to make up.
Hope you laughed. God loves to see you smile.