Bennie and John were sent out to get a bull out of one of Mr. Dansby’s pastures in the Brazos Bottom. The bull, of course had other ideas, and promptly upon seeing two mounted cowboys and three leopard dogs, crawled off into an impenetrable Oak and Yaupon ticket. As John wormed his way into the briar and wait-a-minute vines, and finally dismounting,

he yelled back to Bennie, “bring me your lariat and I’ll tie the two together. I’ll get my end over his head and you dally off your end. Then we can bring him out.”

About this time Mr. Dansby drove out into the pasture in his new, yellow Cadillac. Bennie saw him approaching the thicket, so he rode over to the car and, as Mr. Dansby rolled down the window, spoke to him.

“Mr. Dansby, sir, you had better park right here, there’s no telling which way that bulls going to go when he comes a roaring out of that Thicket!”

The answer was something like, “oh, I’ll be OK,” drawled out by the rancher.

Finally, John hollered out, “I got him!” as he had managed to rope the bull, who crashed through the vines and branches roaring in defiance, dozing down anything in his path, exiting the thicket. Dogs were barking and men yelling as he emerged with vines, leaves, and branches dangling off his head and his hump, and a full gallop, swinging out on the end of a 60-some-odd-foot rope.

Bennie was dally’d, trying to pull back his horse as he realized that the glidepath of the bull on the end of the rope would take him directly into the side of the Cadillac. He couldn’t make the words come out quickly enough

“Mr. Dansby, please move your…! “

BANG! As the bull caved in the whole side of the brand-new, canary yellow Coupe Deville.

“Sir, I told you that wasn’t a good place to Park your car,” explained Bennie.