LOST A GOOD HORSE
March 1982, got word the Space Shuttle might be landing at White Sands, New Mexico. My job at the time was to round up and catch wild cattle on the range. Had seen this old Mossy Horn Cow hanging around the area of the runway. She had a tendency to turn up where she was not wanted. But she also had a knack of always finding a way out of every trap we had set. I decided it was time to get rid of her. I no longer wanted to capture her; I wanted to just be rid of her.
That morning I left camp riding on Concho. A Bulldog Quarter I had picked up down at the El Paso stock sale. Massive set of shoulders on this horse. Big horse, short legs, but staying power. Not fast over a distance, but quickest horse off the line I had ever forked. If he decided to make a fast turn, I was hard pressed to stay with him. But he was a good cutter, and brush popper.
We rode up near the base of the San Andres Mountains. I was carrying a bolt action .30-06 in the boot, and a .44 Mag on my hip. Left camp with one wrangler (Chris) and two dogs. We scoured the foot hills all morning. We broke for lunch around 1 PM. While eating one of the dogs started barking, meaning it had found cattle. Soon the other dog started barking as well. They had an old Bull and a bunch of heifers bunched up. Not what we were looking for but we needed to take them in to get them out of the area.
Later that day I went riding up near a pile of rocks and brush, to head off one of the young ones. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw a Cow bearing down on us. Concho made the jump to get away, but she was too close. She hooked him in the belly just behind my foot. His jumping forward caused her horn to rip all the way to his hip. Concho was disemboweled on the spot. Her continued movement caused her body to slam into Concho’s side, trapping my right foot between them. I had already slipped my left foot out of the stirrup, ready to jump. As the horse and cow moved to my left, I lost my seat and fell out of the saddle onto the cow’s hips. My weight caused her to lose her footing and fall. Concho fell as well, kicking as he went down. Concho fell away from the cow, but as he laid there he kicked her in the head several times.
I fell hard in the rocks. For a bit I was stunned, but knew I had to get up quick before the old cow turned on me. I jumped to my feet and saw her lying there beside Concho kicking. I shot her in the back of the head. Then I collapsed onto the rocks. To this day I don’t remember pulling that pistol, but we later found three bullet holes in her neck and back all from above. Then theer was the one in the back of her head. So I had shot her three times from the saddle, that I don’t remember, then the one shot to the back of the head. Things were sure happening fast.
My Wrangler heard the shooting, and left the small herd to the dogs to keep together. Usually once we had the cows moving the dogs would keep them moving in that direction. Took Chris a while to find me, but by then I was sitting up. I had blood covering my face and chest. Chris shot Concho, he was still breathing. The old cow was dead. Chris took me to a spring and washed the blood away, then set me up to0 shoot any Coyotes that might come along. Chris rode back to camp where the CB radio was. He called in to notify the base of my injuries. Since any chopper they would send out would be unable to find me, as it was getting dark. Chris drove the Dune Buggy up to the spring, and then drove me on in to the base.
[font=]I had two broken ribs, a laceration to the front of my head just above the hairline, and cactus thorns all in my left side. [/font]Doctor restricted me from riding for two weeks. That did not last long. I watched the shuttle land from the back of a horse. That was the landing where the pilot pulled the nose up and ran down the runway with the nose of the shuttle up in the air. His little unprecedented move gave them a lot of information on how well the shuttle handled on the ground.