I was bumbling along a sorry excuse of a road. Two single lines of dirt through the sagebrush of northeastern Nevada.
My headache had gone from bad to worse and this jostling around was not helping matters. I am not even sure where I was since these headaches make it hard for me to focus for more than a few seconds at a time.
Earlier that morning I had headed north on Highway 93 out of Wells, Nevada to a well graded dirt road heading east into the desert.
Following that dirt road I let the wind blow me on to progressively rougher and fainter tracks. Turning left here and making a right there with no destination needed or wanted on this day.
Until climbing out of a wash, guided by who knows what, and coming upon this - it appears I have reached my destination.
My first reaction was to see if I had a gun with me in case the guy was too far gone or badly injured.
Walking up to him he barely struggled, and the marks in dirt clearly showed his struggle to get free.
The good news was that nothing looked broken and he only had some small cuts around his lower leg where the barbwire had cut through his skin.
Carefully and very cautiously I cut him free, having heard of people being suddenly and seriously hurt after releasing a wild animal from predicaments like this.
With a final snip, I quickly stepped back while he tried to stand, but was unable too. With his legs under him he sat upon the ground for ten minutes before he recovered enough to make it to his feet.
For some reason I ended standing on the same side of the fence as him and seeing me so close he tried to charge. Lucky for me that he was so weak that it was more of slow step in my direction with his head down which was stopped with an outstretched palm, much as one would stop their five year old child from head-butting you.
With the message received I quickly climbed to the other side of the fence thinking how ungrateful can one be?
With the protection of four strands of barbwire between us we eyed each for several minutes, thinking who knows what.
Forgiving his rudeness of a few minutes earlier I offer him some water.
After a few tentative sniffs he drinks down two bottles.
There is a reason for him looking at me with only his right eye and for his left ear drooping like that. His left side was the side down in the dirt and he had worn a pretty good hole in the dirt with the left side of his head trying to get free, with the left eye slightly swollen and the ear bent over like that.
Without a word, a snort, a cry - he turns and trots away, over the hill and out of sight and I realize my headache is gone too.
My headache had gone from bad to worse and this jostling around was not helping matters. I am not even sure where I was since these headaches make it hard for me to focus for more than a few seconds at a time.
Earlier that morning I had headed north on Highway 93 out of Wells, Nevada to a well graded dirt road heading east into the desert.
Following that dirt road I let the wind blow me on to progressively rougher and fainter tracks. Turning left here and making a right there with no destination needed or wanted on this day.
Until climbing out of a wash, guided by who knows what, and coming upon this - it appears I have reached my destination.
My first reaction was to see if I had a gun with me in case the guy was too far gone or badly injured.
Walking up to him he barely struggled, and the marks in dirt clearly showed his struggle to get free.
The good news was that nothing looked broken and he only had some small cuts around his lower leg where the barbwire had cut through his skin.
Carefully and very cautiously I cut him free, having heard of people being suddenly and seriously hurt after releasing a wild animal from predicaments like this.
With a final snip, I quickly stepped back while he tried to stand, but was unable too. With his legs under him he sat upon the ground for ten minutes before he recovered enough to make it to his feet.
For some reason I ended standing on the same side of the fence as him and seeing me so close he tried to charge. Lucky for me that he was so weak that it was more of slow step in my direction with his head down which was stopped with an outstretched palm, much as one would stop their five year old child from head-butting you.
With the message received I quickly climbed to the other side of the fence thinking how ungrateful can one be?
With the protection of four strands of barbwire between us we eyed each for several minutes, thinking who knows what.
Forgiving his rudeness of a few minutes earlier I offer him some water.
After a few tentative sniffs he drinks down two bottles.
There is a reason for him looking at me with only his right eye and for his left ear drooping like that. His left side was the side down in the dirt and he had worn a pretty good hole in the dirt with the left side of his head trying to get free, with the left eye slightly swollen and the ear bent over like that.
Without a word, a snort, a cry - he turns and trots away, over the hill and out of sight and I realize my headache is gone too.
