Friday, November 15, 2013

For Posterity | My First Rodeo

Long ago in a land far, far away (Utah), I went to my first rodeo. We were staying with my great-aunt and there was a lot of excitement that day.  It was held at a huge sports complex that smelled like manure, hay and hot dogs. My siblings and I settled into our seats and got ready to have our minds blown. 

The first "act" was a monkey in western wear riding a dog. I repeat, a MONKEY in CHAPS riding a DOG. It was freaking adorable and if the rodeo had been two hours of monkeys pretending to lasso piglets I would have been hooked. The second act was the part that murdered my heart. A calf was released into the ring and soon after a teenage girl rode out horseback and lassoed the legs of the calf, dragging it squealing across the arena. (There's probably a name for that, like the "no-legged calf race.") I sat there, sobbing, looking at the clapping spectators and seeing them for the sadistic psychopaths they really were (not you, mom). 

I couldn't get the squeals out of my mind. I tossed and turned all night, visions of laughing crowds and terrified animals impeding sleep. They haunted me like the lambs haunted Clarice. 
I had to do something. 


The next day I walked with purpose to the cow corral and boldly opened the gate. The cows did nothing.  I was offering them freedom and they didn't even move. Undeterred I rattled the fence and yelled things like, "BE FREE" and "RUN WILD IN NATURE!"  Eventually they started coming towards the open gate, then running towards it, then out of it. And as I stood on the fence listening to the stampede shake the ground around me the gravity of the what I had just done settled over me like a blanket of dread.

I slowly backed away from the now-empty corral and started to retreat back towards the house. I thought I had done something good but the sick feeling I had now caused me to doubt my family's ability to see my side of things. Maybe no one would notice. Maybe they would think the wind blew the gate open. As I turned around I came face to face with my older sister, who, mouth agape, eyes full of maniacal glee looked at me and said, "You're going to be in so. much. trouble."

Despite all my best intentions, no one wanted to hear my various justifications, from the plight of the cow, to the moral dilemmas of western culture in America. As I ate my cheeseburger later that night I took comfort in the knowledge that even for just a moment, I had given those majestic creatures freedom.