The disappearing mule

By JAMES LOCKHART

A few years ago I decided I wanted to have a small, stocky built mule to take to Colorado elk hunting. I wanted to use it not to ride, but for use as a pack mule. I’ve never owned a mule or been around them, unless I was coon hunting with Brother Sam or the time I rented a mule in Colorado. I figured a small stout mule wouldn’t take up much room in the trailer to Colorado and I could just turn it out with the cows the rest of the year.

Brother Sam’s mule is named Slim. Slim has been rode all over southeast Oklahoma coon hunting. He’s also rode him at several cowboy church events and rodeos. Slim is as gentle as a lamb and wouldn’t hurt anyone. That’s about my knowledge of mule behavior being around Slim and the old rented mule in Colorado.

So I called up the owner of the sale barn and told him what I was wanting. He said he had just the mule for me right then. He would take two hundred and fifty dollars for it too. So I hooked up the stock trailer and went over there to buy me a mule. Now Slim and the Colorado mule they could have passed for a horse if you trimmed their ears down. This sale barn mule, well he wouldn’t ever pass for a horse. He was stocky built, but he could eat feed out of the bottom of a fifty five gallon barrel and look at you while he was doing it. His ears were so long they would likely pick up several radio stations and maybe even espn if they were pointed just right. From the neck back he looked pretty decent, but his head didn’t fit his body very pretty.

They said he was broke to lead so we kind of used a gate in the ally of the Salebarn to corner him up and get the halter on him. He kind of led if someone was behind him to sort of scare him forward. I didn’t care I just wanted to get him home and turned out with the cows until elk season. I figured he could get broke on the trail to elk camp. I had a big plan for elk season. I asked what his name was and the guys just said mule. So, in honor of one of my favorite mule skinners I named him Festus Hagen, you know from the Matt Dillion TV show, Gunsmoke.

So I took Festus home and turned him out with the cows. I figured it wouldn’t be that hard to get him in the lot come hunting season. He could eat grass and chase off coyotes from the cows. He would have a good life except during elk season, that’s only about two weeks a year. That’s not a bad life at all for a mule that was about to be made into dog food in old Mexico.

It wasn’t long and Brother Sam’s brother got to feeding my mule when he was over by their house. The neighbors at the other end of the cow pasture also sort of starting feeding Festus. He kind of became a local hero in a way. No matter which end of the pasture he was on all he had to do was stand by a house and bray and someone wound come feed him, talk about the good life Festus had it.

Well elk season was about roll around and one day I kind of thought I would go try to catch Festus and bring him home for some pack mule training.

Danged if I couldn’t find him. I called all the neighbors and even called and asked my dad. No one had seen him in a few weeks. I kind of figured someone stole him. He just up and vanished into thin air.

The months went by and they turned into two years. One day my wife and I were in Tulsa and my phone rang. It was a neighbor. He said hey you still got that red mule? I don’t really know, I ain’t seen it in two years. He said well it’s going to get hit if it don’t get off the road. I asked if he could tote him into the lot with some feed until I got back. So like magic, Festus showed back up.

I took him home and hated to turn him loose, fearing he would disappear again. I was adding on to the horse barn at that time. So, I thought he would stay tied to a 2 3/8 pipe post I had set for the barn. I triple tied the lead lead rope to the pipe and went inside for the night. At daylight, that danged mule was gone again. The horse pasture is only thirty acres, so after a little looking I seen him eating grass with some of the mares. No big deal, I will tie him up this evening.

Well it took a couple days for me to get back around to thinking about tying him up. I don’t go around to the back of the horse barn very often, that is where I had those posts set to add on to the barn. I walked back there to run him in the lot and that’s when I noticed the post was broke off at the ground. I walked out to the mule and low and behold he was still dragging the post he broke off. It was polished shiny it had been drug so much.

I tied him up inside my roping arena this time. Even if he got lose he wasn’t going far. So, the next evening I proceeded with my roping horse and I was going to have a little session of learning to follow the horse around like a good pack mule should do. My daughter handed me the lead rope to the mule. I got me a good dally around the saddle horn and eased my heading horse to a walk. Festus said no, I ain’t leading. The lead rope slipped around the saddle horn so fast it smoked the inner tube i have wrapped around it. Festus took off to the back of the arena. When he got to back fence he didn’t slow down. He just jumped. He got mostly over and only mashed down the wire cattle panel with his back legs. It was dark so I couldn’t see to chase him in the pasture. So, he’d disappeared once again.

The next morning I had to leave before daylight so I never looked for the mule. It was dark when I got home that evening. The next day I kind of called all the pasture horses up and low and behold the mule wasn’t there. There’s several thousand acres of brush to the north of our place. I guess that danged mule is still in it somewhere, because I ain’t seen him since that night. We’ve joked that we own a mule, but he disappears for two years at a time. The next time he shows up he’s going straight back to the sale barn. He can disappear with someone else as far as I’m concerned.

James Lockhart lives near the Kiamichi mountains in southeast Oklahoma. He writes cowboy stories and fools with cows and horses.