Doc and Bert were there to watch the Saturday
sale.
"Dewey?" asked Doc. There's a world of intrigue around here in
the pronunciation of those two syllables, although we all love Dewey
Decker and wish him well. But when he shows up in his truck,
disaster is usually riding shotgun.
"I was helping out with the branding over at the Diamond D,"
Steve said, twitching his oversized mustache. "We were about halfway
done when we saw the dust of the pickup coming along the road."
Doc said, "Dewey's helped out at brandings before this, hasn't
he?"
"Sure," said Steve. "The last time, he inoculated ol' Dud for
blackleg. 'Course, Dud hasn't had blackleg since then, so there you
go.
"Well, you know the problem with Dewey. It's finding him
something to do where he can't hurt himself, livestock, property,
other people or the federal government. Bob said maybe Dewey could
take pictures, but it wasn't to be..."
"Not good," said Bert.
"Nope. Ol' Doo stepped out of the truck with a brand-new nylon
catch rope and said he was there to heel the calves and drag them to
the fire for us."
"But that's usually the boss's job," Doc said. Most of us know
the corral protocols.
