The young cattle were restless, murmurs of discontent were increasing. I could hear stilted whispering voices from the rear of the cattle truck.
“I’m telling you straight Slim, we are not headed for greener pastures. Have you ever known a steer to send back a postcard? They are going to eat us with a side order of fries!”
“You’ve been on the sweet grass. That’s crazy talk Tex.”
Peeking in, I could see the truck driver tied up with blue hay bailing twine after having been immobilised by an electronic cattle prod, which was being held in the cloven hoof of a triple JJJ branded Poll Hereford Brahman cross bull- JJJ the mark of the beast!
“You can talk!” I said aloud stepping back in a state of shock.
Triple J turned, looked me straight in the eye and said “Sure can, My great, great grandfather was Banana, the greatest rodeo bull this country has ever produced. He spent his life around men, picked up their ways and language, then taught it to us young steers secretly. We aren’t just beefcake, but Gods creatures too!”
“What are you gunna do now?” I asked.
“We’re keeping the driver as a hostage. Me and the boys are busting out then heading into the interior to start a new life- where all animals can run free! ”
Above us a lazy Australian raven with a thick Thai accent smiles and chirps out “Sawasdee Ka, Sawasdee Ka (Hello Lady !)”
I sleep so soundly on tour where my dreams are more vivid and intense sensory overload I guess or perhaps it was seeing the wild scrub cattle by the roadside, watching me watching them.
I wake up scratching at my inner thigh, only to discover a tick feasting on me.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t part of the dream!