22 Dancing Cows

They were outside looking over their unpainted fence at 150 head of beef cattle spread out before them. All but 22 were silently grazing. The ones that weren’t grazing were off by themselves dancing. Some were on their front legs, others were on their hind legs, and some were trading off front and back.

“Them cows is dancing!”

“I don’t know what else you’d call it,” the rancher said. His name was Tommy Troy, but everyone called him “Bugs.”

“Well, I’ll be…” the woman said.

Her name was Lucie Troy, and everyone called her “Loony.” Everyone but Bugs. He called her “Mother,” which was unfortunate. Some people whose names we won’t mention started making uncharitable remarks about them being mother and son, for real. They did look alike. But that would be unnatural and against God, and eventually the rumor was put to rest by Jerry, the Minister of Our Charitable Lord Holy Church.

So, all that nonsense died down though we still think Loony might be Bug’s older sister. Maybe his first cousin. Who knows? What we know for a fact is they sleep in the same bed, and they's both dyed in wool Presbyterians which ain't much better.

We found out about their dancing cows when Andy Sykes seen em while driving past on 16, which runs right by their property. Townsfolk in these parts don’t put up with much of anything they don’t fully understand. We immediately jumped in our trucks, leaving the women behind throwing beer cans at us ‘cause they wanted to come too, but we wouldn’t hear of it. This dancing cow business reeks of the devil and no place for a female, or so said Jerry, with adamant fervor! We figured the Minister of Our Charitable Lord Holy Church ought to know.

We found both Troys standing out front of their little house, staring at the cows. Well, staring at the ones that were dancing. The others held little interest.

“Is that the Jitterbug?” Clem asked, coming out of the swirling dust cloud the truck-convoy had brought. “I think that’s the Jitterbug!”

“Wait till you sees ‘em Tango!” Bugs said.

“No!” Clem said. "The Tango?"

“And the Cha Cha! They do the Cha Cha too, don’t they, baby?”

“Yes, they surely do, Mother. It’s a sight to behold.”

Clem, who considered himself a bit of a Fred Astair type, said, “Even I don’t know the Cha Cha!”

“Oh, for the love of Pete Clem,” Jerry shouted. “It’s them cows doing the Cha Cha you find amazing?”

“The Cha Cha is a very involved multi-step—”

“It’s against God!” Jerry bellowed. “It goes against God Himself!”

“The Cha Cha?” Clem said, lifting his arms. “I mean, come on, it might be a little risqué, but—"

“This whole thing, Clem! Not just the Cha Cha. This is the devil’s work! I can feel his eyes. Can’t you feel his eyes burning into the back of your neck? I can smell his stinking breath!” Jerry looked around. Five more trucks were coming down the long dirt track toward them. The Bennington brothers. No doubt about it. Hopefully not their wives. Sweet Jesus, not now, please no wives of the Bennington brothers!

And out popped the Bennington brothers. All six of them and their foreign-born wives the brothers mail ordered out of some catalogue. They all ran to the fence with the men speaking American and the wives looking over the fence in giggly pagan wonderment.

“This is against all that is holy,” Jerry said, using his thunderous church voice. “We got to put these cows down. They are the devil! This whole place is unholy!” He waved my arms in an all-encompassing arc. “Not to mention, them cows are obviously lezbos!”

"They're lez-bovineos!" Clem chortled. The Bennington brothers all laughed.

“You’re looking at this all wrong, Jerry,” the mayor said, “These dancing cows are a gift from God.”

The Bennington brothers said, “Praise Jesus!” all at the same time.

“It’s an abomination!” Jerry roared.

“It’s a money maker, Jerry. And it’s going to put our little town on the map!”

The cows now took a break from dancing to change partners.

“Here it comes!” Loonie called out. "They're gonna Tango."

We watched them in stunned silence. Now, cheek to cheek, they began taking long sensuous hind-leg cow steps going off in one direction, and then on a dime, the about-face, the turn, and the long cow steps coming back again. They all moved with grace. Their bovine heads held high.

“Stick around for the Cha Cha,” Bugs called out as he walked Loonie back inside their little cabin.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Clem called over his shoulder.

Jerry followed them inside their home. The Troys were peeking out the one front window at the gathering group along the fence rails. More cars and trucks were coming down the long dirt driveway.

“You know something, Mr. Troy?”

“What’s that, Mother?”

“I think we could make us some money off of these here dancin’ cows…”

“You mean like sell popcorn or some such thing?”

“That’s eezackly what I mean! First thing tomorra, we got to get us a passel of popcorn poppers!"

"And maybe some sody-pop!”

And with that, Troy’s Dancing Cows Extravaganza empire began to take shape.


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