The story goes that one fine evening a Mrs. George Wood called a Dr. Martin Satterfield, a veterinarian, from her home. It was about her mule, Horace. After asking a few questions and hearing the answers, Dr. Satterfield said, “Give him a dose of mineral oil, and if he ain’t alright in the morning, call me, and I’ll come out and take a look at your mule.”
She wanted to know how to give the mule the mineral oil and the Doctor said “Give it through a funnel.”
She protested that the mule might bite her, and the Doctor, becoming exasperated, said, “You’re a farm woman, and you know about those things. Give it to him in the other end.”
So she went down to the barn and there stood Horace moaning and groaning. She searched for a funnel and in desperation saw Uncle Bill’s hunting horn hanging on the wall. She took the horn and affixed it properly. Then she reached up on the shelf and instead of picking up the mineral oil, she unwittingly grabbed a bottle of liniment and poured a liberal dose into the horn.
Horace raised his head with a sudden jerk and stood dead still for maybe three seconds. Then he let out a squeal that could be heard a mile down the road and reared up on his hind legs and off he went at a mad gallop. Since he was in pain, every few jumps he made, the horn would blow. All the hound dogs in the neighborhood knew it meant that Uncle Bill was going fox hunting, so out in the road they went, joyously following Uncle Bill. Witnesses said they’d never seen anything like it.
By this time it was good and dark. Horace and the dogs were coming to the Inland Waterway. The bridge-tender heard the horn blowing erratically and figured a fast boat was approaching. He hurriedly went out and cranked up the bridge. Horace went kerplunk into the water and unfortunately drowned. But the pack of dogs that went into the water all swam out okay.
And now for the end of the story:
The bridge tender was also the sheriff of the county and was running for re-election at the time. But he managed to get only seven votes, and they were from kinfolks. Those who took the time to analyze the election figured that any man who didn’t know the difference between a mule with a horn up its caboose and a boat coming down the river wasn’t fit to hold any public office in the county.
by Bena Mae Seivers
This amusing piece was sent to us by Norman Fine from Foxhunting Life in USA. The story was told to him by Bena Mae Seivers who writes for the Corbin News Journal in Kentucky. She read this a few years ago and at the time thought it was just a funny story. Now, she says, being “Awash in the political tsunami of hopeful presidential nominees swarming over us on TV”, it begins to make some sense.