Bawanna's Mule Story

Bawanna

Bawanna

Moderator
Joined
Dec 19, 2012
Messages
10,333
First let me say I do for a fact love mules. I'd much prefer a good mule under me than the finest horse ever foaled. Guess I'm a little different.

This is a true story oft repeated by uncles and my granddad who I trusted to tell the truth and nothing but the truth and all were born and bred in Missouri, the patron state of honesty and not lying and stuff. Also worth noting the patron state of good mules, on account of Missouri got first choice and picked Mules over Swedes which as we all know went to Illinois. I'm allowed to say that since I crossed over the line and married a Swede.
I weren't there of course on account of my daddy and my mommy didn't even know each other and my dad was just a kid so they didn't fool around or go to the airport or anything that causes stuff like me.

Anyhow in this era a fine set of matched mules was like owning the finest biggest John Deere tractor they make now days.
Much coveted by folks that didn't have them.

Anyhow my dad and his brother, my uncle, he had 7 brothers, this one was Robert was out plowing or doing whatever you do with a fine set of matched mules.
And of course mules being mules one was not being completely cooperative.

Well my dad being my dad and coming from a long line of family that get's kind of riled easily has enough and picks up a big Missouri dirt clod and lets fly! Sure enough drills that ole mule right smack in the side of his big ole head.

Well that mule dropped like he was shot by a 416 Rigby in the Kalahari Desert. Not stumble, no messing around, total gravity overload, bam, down he went.

As the story goes, my dad knowing that the death sentence was just imposed upon himself was playing doctor on that mule in a frantic way.

We're talking mouth to mouth, thumping on his chest, all while a sweating and a praying for all he was worth.
Well that mule was out for about 3 minutes, one uncle thought it was just plumb lazy and was playing possum but that 3 minutes was a long spell to my dad who I'm sure was contemplating hanging himself to save the lashes my granddad would surely inflict.

Well after that 3 minutes the mule just got back up, surely my dad saw angels and a choir and felt he'd never do anything bad ever again. Mule kind of shook his head and didn't give em no trouble at all the rest of that day.

That's my story and I'm stickin to it.
 
Thank you for writing this down, I was very curious.

I'm sure that was quite a scare :), good thing that mule recovered otherwise who can tell if we'd still be reading Bawanna's fine posts on this forum.

Life was so much different a few generations ago, I'm glad to have had grandparents living in the country to live and experience stuff that would seem from another planet to kids today.
 
Long as we're talking mules I got another more recent first hand mule story.

My daughter was into 4H for many years and we spent a ton of time at the local fairgrounds for horse shows, fair and that sort of stuff. Too much time in my book but ya gotta do it ya know?

Anyhow on this particular day we're between events and I'm watching this fitting and showing deal where the horses gotta stand just right and walk and run and backup and do all kind of unnatural kind of stuff.

Well there's probably 15 horses and one mule. Fine looking mule too and he did real well I thought. I think the judge as usual probably didn't know as much as she thought she did.

Anyhow long story slightly shortened, the mule didn't win or get a ribbon and the little girl probably 10 or 12 give or take weren't none to happy, kind of sad and half crying and half mad angry at that mule.

Well I saw the opportunity to get close and personal with the mule and maybe make the little girls day not quite so awful. As I was near the gate they come out and she was the last one out I mentioned to her how fine I thought her mule was and how nicely I thought he did in the arena. I inquired if she'd be interested in selling him to me then and there, I even had my trailer parked out back. I would have bought it too if my plan backfired. Nice mule!

Well mission accomplished, that little girl did a complete 180 instantly, kind of smiled her shy smile and that mule was her buddy again.
Her parents who overheard the whole deal sought me out later and thanked me for completely saving and otherwise awful afternoon.

Kind of put a little extra energy into my rolling around it did.
 
Moonw said:
Thank you for writing this down, I was very curious.

I'm sure that was quite a scare :), good thing that mule recovered otherwise who can tell if we'd still be reading Bawanna's fine posts on this forum.

Life was so much different a few generations ago, I'm glad to have had grandparents living in the country to live and experience stuff that would seem from another planet to kids today.
Click to expand...

I hadn't thought of that. Could have been life changing for me for sure. Wow, that was a close one I reckon.
 
Bawanna said:
Long as we're talking mules I got another more recent first hand mule story.

My daughter was into 4H for many years and we spent a ton of time at the local fairgrounds for horse shows, fair and that sort of stuff. Too much time in my book but ya gotta do it ya know?

Anyhow on this particular day we're between events and I'm watching this fitting and showing deal where the horses gotta stand just right and walk and run and backup and do all kind of unnatural kind of stuff.

Well there's probably 15 horses and one mule. Fine looking mule too and he did real well I thought. I think the judge as usual probably didn't know as much as she thought she did.

Anyhow long story slightly shortened, the mule didn't win or get a ribbon and the little girl probably 10 or 12 give or take weren't none to happy, kind of sad and half crying and half mad angry at that mule.

Well I saw the opportunity to get close and personal with the mule and maybe make the little girls day not quite so awful. As I was near the gate they come out and she was the last one out I mentioned to her how fine I thought her mule was and how nicely I thought he did in the arena. I inquired if she'd be interested in selling him to me then and there, I even had my trailer parked out back. I would have bought it too if my plan backfired. Nice mule!

Well mission accomplished, that little girl did a complete 180 instantly, kind of smiled her shy smile and that mule was her buddy again.
Her parents who overheard the whole deal sought me out later and thanked me for completely saving and otherwise awful afternoon.

Kind of put a little extra energy into my rolling around it did.
Click to expand...

I'm sure that meant the world to the little girl. Very nice thing to do! :)
 
Yeah if that Mule wouldda passed it might be quite different today.
48d34d326d682aea77cba7aa11d4283c
 
Funny thing. As a kid my dad had a model of the 20 mule team on our fireplace harth.

I watched him put it together. It was quite the task to arrange all the lines and harnes. Very cool. Wish I had it today, no idea what happened to it.
 
We ploughed with mules in Missouri until '55. Our friend who went on to become Sir Patrick Moore thought he'd need one to pull a big octagon telescope he made. Think he had a cat that didn't like mules, though.
 
I think it about time for another mule story! Somebody tell me a story or im gonna fall asleep here! I dont get paid if Im asleep! Maybe "........." Something:yawn: Oh no... not that.
 
Well I just suffered thru a quarterly dept training/meeting. Managed to stay awake the whole time this time. Can't hear a word said but they insist I go.

Got my 18 year stripes, I managed to hear my name as I was kind of semi nodding off and I blurted out I didn't do it. Kind of awkward. Chief says I'm now at level 2 of my probationary period. Guess he has long probationary periods.

By the time I stuff some groceries down my neck and get my nap in it will be time to go home.

I think I'm gonna ask the wife to give me a regular allowance tonight. Having to ask everytime I need fuel or anything just ain't right. Full growed half man should have regular play money. Pray for me.
 
i for one am not very fond of mules.

my father in law melvin in alabama had a mule. he used it to plow the vegetable garden for my MIL lilly. meanest orneriest thing i ever saw.

melvin couldn't have a guard dog. the mule kept killin' them. the mule was pastured in the field where the outhouse was.

if you needed to go no. 1, you went in the woods. if you needed to go no. 2, you needed to wait for the mule to wander off down the other aside of the pasture so you could sneak into the outhouse before it saw you.

fast little devil. if he realised you were in there, you might have to wait an hour or two before he got bored laying in wait for you and moved on to bother something else. the mule tolerated melvin. the only thing it feared was lilly. for good reason. them only thing melvin feared was lilly.

i was there one day when melvin was sampling his moonshine & lilly had enough and scared him out of the house. as he was running thru the front door she threw her kitchen knife at him and stuck it in the door frame next to his head. i told her she'd missed. she said no, i hit what i aimed at, if'n i'd wanted to hit him i would have. i looked at the door frame. shure 'nuff, there was a whole bunch of puncture marks from where she'd thrown it before. all in about a two inch circle. she was 5'4'' and about 80 lb. of steel wire. melvin was 6 ft.6in. all his boys were over 6 ft. most over 7. girls were all tall too. my wife was the shortest at 5'9". luckily lilly liked me. later on when i got divorced from her daughter, she kept me and threw her out.

anyway, back to the mule. if lilly was around when you were in the outhouse, you could call her to escort you back, the mule knew enough to not rile her.

melvin also was proud of his flock of chickens. no egg layin' eatin' chickens, they was all fighting chickens. beautiful iridescent fighting cocks. won him a lot of money and respect. he'd been breeding them for decades. cock fighting was of course illegal. but this was alabama, after all. technically his still was illegal too. darn atf kept trying to catch him. he did spend a few years inside for tax evasion, all they could pin on him. he figured he'd earned at least 2 million from moonshine, and lost it all gambling. he showed me where the still had been, god awful hard place to get to.

anyways, he comes home from the still one evening to find the mule had killed the chickens. every one of them, and was eating his best rooster with gusto. melvin was not amused.

next weekend when we visited, no more mule. he had a chest freezer full of er, 'beef' he didn't have the week before. we had some that night. stew. kinda tough and ornery tho for beef.

melvin got a gasoline roto-tiller for the garden.
 
Last edited:
Grats man! So after 36 years you go on Probationary level 3:eek: Awesome. Im still working for a startup company so not much chance in getting a raise or promotion or anything like that. Weve been starting up for over 20 years now. Yeah you should be on a reglar Khuk allowance by now! Did ya get a gold badgie yet?
 
I only been here 18 years and I'm a man in a womans division. No raise or gold badge.

Probably about right on the 36 years going to level 3.

Funny thing, all my wanna be bosse's all got their 9 year stripes today. Something just ain't right.

Kronckew, Lilly sounds a lot like my grandma. May she rest in peace. Two daughters and 5 sons and not a one of em would think about questioning her directions or stand up to her in any way.

I did a remodel on a house up here for a retired LAPD SWAT guy. His partner lived next door, both great guys and had a lot of fun but he had a German Shepard that was just fun to play with long as he was around but when he wasn't you had to steer clear of it.

We was working mostly outside and he'd keep it inside or come out with it so we was safe.

When we had to use the in house (opposite of the outhouse) and they was inside, him usually up in his game room, dog who knows where we devised a plan.

Had to go through the garage, into a laundry room where there was a door. In the laundry room there was a huge bag of doggie bisquits. The trick was to take two bisquits and listen carefully at the door. Then open it just a crack and softly whisper here puppy puppy puppy. Usually the dog was there looking right at ya waiting to rip your throat out, but sometimes not. If he's there you toss one of the bisquits down the hall way and when he went after it jump straight accross the hall to the in house. Repeat the process to get back.

If you saw no sign of him, you took a big chance and just scrambled across the hall and you could eat one of the bisquits yourself as a reward.

We had a electrician there a couple days and he asked where the in house was as he was just wiring a hot tub so all outside. I carefully detailed the method and even offered to act as cover at the hall way door in case he miss tossed his bisquit, I could toss another from my side.

He said forget it, and went to the woods. We did that alot too. Safer.

Reminded me a lot of the mule you mention.
 
How bout a donkey story? All I got but true! We had a pesky donkey in the neighborhood when I lived in the Virgin Islands but they were pretty much wild there. Soon as a humans would leave an area they would swarm the site looking for scraps for stuff humans usually leave behind. More like buzzards i guess. They didnt usually bother you but there was one that didnt seem to be scarred of anything. I had a construction job building a bank across the street from where I lived and we were pouring a lot of concrete. Of course in the islands there aint no mix truck or pumps. You shoveled sand, gravel, cement and added water into a hand mixer then wheel barrowed it to the site to pour. We had 55 gal drums to dip the water out of to do the mixing and as long as the mixer was running the donkeys wouldnt come near. As soon as we turned the mixer off and left the site all the donkeys would come drink out of the drums and eat our lunch scraps. After work one day my kids and wife met me at work because we were going somewhere after work and my son was playing in one of the drums of water splashing around in it and such. I turned the mixer off and went to put my tools up and lock the shed and all of sudden I heard a loud death scream. WTH:eek: I knew it was my son! He wouldnt stop screaming and I didnt know what the heck happened? My wife didnt see it either. We finally calmed him down enough to tell us what happened. I raised his shirt and there was a big purple ring bruise on his back! That donkey walked up behind my son and bit the hell out of him square on the back! The same donkey had grabbed my wifes backpack one morning as she went to work and she tried to pull it away from him. It would not let it go! Her lunch was in it and the donkey was going to have it by god! I grabbed a square point shovel and whacked the hell out of it with the flat side and it let go but wouldnt leave. My son is terrified of anything that looks like a horse, mule or donkey to this day!
 
You were on a Virgin Island. Sounds plumb worldly to me, gotta be in a whole nuther country.
 
Yep I lived in Tortola. Its a British Virgin Island. Four miles across the Sir Frances Drake Channel from St. John (USVI). They talk funny there kinda like Benny Hill. Actually most of my buddies were from Santo Domingo Dominican Republic and spoke Spanish. I speak Spanish so no problem talking to them but the British are another story. They had a hell of a time trying to understand me and I couldnt understand them either even tho it was English. Took them a while to get used to me. They thought I was a spy, cop, secret agent and all kids of stuff. They spent half their life trying to immigrate to the US through Miami or New York and just couldnt figure out why someone from the US would try to immigrate to a little tropical island in the Caribbean.

I wonder if donkeys like biscuits? Might have to try your trick next time im in the islands:thumbup:
 
Now, my old man was a big bruiser. Tough and sometimes mean. He would grab three spark plugs while he would be working on a V-8 engine to kill it so he didn't have to walk around and turn the key. Never phase him what-so-ever. A couple of years or so before he passed away, he had his last mule. Nice little brown Jack outta Tennessee. The old man kept him in the lot behind the house and the two were pretty much inseparable. They say birds of a feather flock together and now I reckon asses do, too. The mule would sometimes go through the door and get into the back porch trying to get into the house. He KNEW there were mule treats (cookies) inside. Now, right out the porch windows, the old man had a water tank for the livestock. The lot fence came up to the sides of the tank, but did not go across it's back side. This was convenient for Dad because he could walk up to where the fence met the water tank, grab the fence post, swing his legs over the corner of the tank one at a time to get into the yard. Great short cut and I used it many times myself.

One day I drove my family out to the old man's place for a supper. I walked onto the back porch and yelled for him to come and eat. Sure enough, here he come...with his brown furry shadow close behind. Dad threw one leg over the tank and as the foot touched the ground, his butt raised up a bit to allow his other leg to swing out to cross the tank. The ol' mule bit him right on the left cheek of his butt and the old man didn't say a word. Had a little difficulty getting swung completely over the water tank, but managed when the mule let loose. Lightening never moved faster. If I had not seen it, I'd never freakin' believe what happened next. Dad took his left hand off the fence post, reared back and punched the mule square on the nose and lips!. The mule's eye bugged out big time and went cross. At the same time, he abruptly plopped his haunches on the ground behind him in sitting fashion and blew snot and blood out both nostrils. It opened it's mouth to bray.....and BOTH IT'S TWO FRONT TEETH HAD BEEN KNOCKED OUT!! Not just broken, but knocked completely out of his head! You got any idea just how long mule's front teeth are?

NO, Dad did not sit down to eat supper. For the next ten days he had the blackest butt you ever saw. Later, the old man ended up giving him a shot of pain killer and the next day, they were best buds once again and remained that way until the old man passed away. You had to laugh at that mule though. He'd walk around intentionally protruding his tongue out the gap in his teeth and then coming up behind the old man and lick his neck. The old man would cuss loudly and the mule would pull his tongue back in and stand there and SMILE at him! Then in the afternoon, both the old man and the mule would go sit on the front porch and drink beer. Sometimes out of the same can.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top