Long time “Under the Wire” readers are by now aware of my propensity towards accidents and injuries. The truth of the matter is, new readers won’t have to read very many of these columns to figure out, several include details of my latest “oops!”

The most recent published adventure involved having a cow use me for a door mat, resulting in close to two dozen fractures to various bones in my frame. I said “published” because that isn’t my most recent miscalculation. That one would be parking my pickup loaded with my four wheeler in not exactly the correct spot to back the spray tank laden little run-about down the ramps. About half way down the sloping ramps, I noticed they might be a little steeper than usual. “Have I stopped at the wrong unloading spot?” was just entering my mind when it, along with the head and body attached to it, began to slowly rear over backwards. The result was, in order from the ground up, a big pool of weed spray spilling out of the broken tank, me, a bit of gas spilling out of the gas tank overflow and finally the inverted 4-wheeler topping off the Gary sandwich.

Besides the ruined spray tank the only other damage was to my pride and about $10 worth of weed spray. Oh, yea. My clothes smelled pretty bad soaked in 2,4,D, Roundup and 10 percent Ethanol gasoline. No E.R. visits, surgeries or sutures needed. This was an easy one.

Years ago my brother-in-law asked me just how many injuries, surgeries, bone repairs, sew ups and general wreaks have I had in my life? A valid question, I began the list. First was at five years old when my father accidentally backed a tractor over me. Deep snow saved me from being a pancake. From then on through years of sports, rodeo, horse training, cowboying and just a generally active life, I came up with an unbelievable 43 incidents, not counting the cow and four-wheeler episodes described earlier.

Sue and close friends say I have “cat” in me, except they only have nine lives. I’m well past that. Careless or adventuresome? Depends on who you ask.

Years ago I heard a story that describes my life. A man was asked this puzzle. “If two trains were headed towards each other on the same track, one at 20 mph, the other 60 mph, and you could only make one call, who would you call?”

“That’s easy,” the man replied, “I’d call my brother.”

“Why your brother?” the questioner asked.

“Because he ain’t never seen a wreck like this!” was the reply.

Keep these columns and send them to your brother.