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away they went! Matilda would run and buck, and Matt would hold on for 3 or 4 seconds before falling off. All three of us would laugh like fools, then we'd catch Matilda and do it all again.

This went on for 30 minutes or so, and we were having a grand time. Then unfortunately Matt came off badly and bumped his head hard enough to send him into the house crying. My Mom claimed to be five foot two (I think she only made that in heels with her hair done up), but when she was mad she turned into 100 pounds of dynamite. Suddenly the two rough, tough cowboys remembered some fencing in the back 40 that needed to be repaired. We also decided that we could engineer any fencing materials we would need out there on the spot, no need to hunt up pliers or anything first. We were heading out there, keeping a low profile, when we heard Matthew calling for us. Once we were sure it wasn't a ruse to get us within shoe-throwing distance of my Mom (I once saw her take my brother Scott out with a sneaker at 40 yards), we cautiously made our way back to the barnyard.

Matthew was wearing my Step Dad's old motorcycle helmet. In what may have been the first time a protective helmet was worn in a rodeo event, Matt announced he was ready to try one more time, and was going to go all out to stay on this time. Unfortunately, Matilda had decided that she was going to go all out, too. Just like before, I held on to the goat, while Tim positioned Matt on her back. Matt gave us the nod, we let go, and so began the most memorable rodeo ride we've ever seen. Matilda bucked. She ran. She twisted and spun. Matt soon gave up any attempt to keep one hand free, and just wrapped his arms around Matilda's neck and clamped his legs at her sides. Eventually, Matilda realized she was not going to throw him in the conventional manner, but she had one trick left and she headed for the barn. She bounded up that stack of hay like a mountain goat with wings. To his credit, Matt stayed with her to the very top. Then he fell.

If you can imagine rats vainly trying to scramble up the deck of an up-ended, sinking ship, you'll have an idea of what Tim and I saw when Matt first started tumbling down that stack. We'd used a conveyor to get that stack of hay so high. The tiers were stepped, which gave Matilda the footing she needed, but also gave Matt plenty of opportunities to bounce on his way down. Tim and I again started thinking about how badly that fence needed to be repaired, but as it turned out Matt wasn't hurt at all. A little shaken and scared, but laughing just the same.

Matthew later went on to become a bull rider and a bullfighter in the rodeo. Psychiatrists would no doubt blame me and Tim, but because Matt eventually gave up rodeo in favor of the relative safety and steadiness of construction work, I say "what do they know?"

Learn more about this author, Joe Poniatowski.
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