Jake came into the Gibson family about 13 years ago or so. He was owned by an man we all knew and was treated as an wqual. Jake caught the eye of my brother while trail riding around here and hill climbing in southern Illinois. My brother rode Arabians and had occasion to be toward the top in all that he rode in. Jake was also right up there too. The more Jeep [brother] rode and saw old Jake the more he wanted to own'm. A deal was struck and Jake came to live with this part of the Gibson family. Jake was excellent and experienced/broke to work, ride and DRINK! The first thing old Jake done was go on the wagon. An alcholic mule and Southern Baptists just don't mix very well! The former owner wasn't mean to Jake--in fact Jake was and equal of his rider. However much beer the owner could afford old Jake got half before the rides. If it wan't enough he [Jake] would start brayin. At that point the owner didn't want to be embarrassed so he'd give Jake some of his half. His "beer drinkin dish" was always handy. It was a hubcap from the old Ford used to tow Jakes trailer. After coming to his new home the big old mule [17 hands and 30 yrs old] had lots of company. Arabians, dogs, 1 pig, turkeys, chickens, 1 male guinias and at one time a peacock. Jake had lots of company and friends. When Jeep started sellin off the horses Jake would pine and not eat for several days. Finally he was down to the old guinias and then the peacock came to live with'm. After 3 weeks of the peacock screamin his fool head off it ended one morning at about 3 am. The peacock was settin on top of the house [his place of preference] screamin when a 12 ga. stopped that un-nerving hollering. The guinias was a weird dude too. He'd set alongside the Ford pickup and look at himself in the hubcap or the front bumper. This is the saga of Jake the mule. The old dude is now alone of his friends, he mopes around the pasture without his company. They are all gone except the dogs, pig and a chicken or two. Mr Guinias succumed 2 nights ago by the mouth of a dalmation dog left out overnight. Jake is still pinin and will for another week or so. He has had a hard life since coming into the family. No more hard work, company, being rode while settin on'm backwards and no more BEER! This is a true story and is unfolding as each day passes. If I knew how I'd post a picture of the old fellow. He's a big Georgia Red and close to 42 or 43 years old--as near as anybody can tell. Stay tuned! Matt. 24:44

-- hoot gibson (hoot@pcinetwork.com), July 21, 2000

Answers

I LOVE me a good Mule story!!! One of the smartest animals man has created!

-- Mark (deadgoatman@webtv.net), July 22, 2000.

Correction to the Jake story. Jeep sold/traded Jake to his boy Charlie who lives next door on the old homeplace. Charlie is a saddle maker and also carves, stamps leather on gun cases, saddles and whatever else he builds. I just found out he also makes leather placemats and has carved a sillouite of old Jake on them. So, old Jake is known far and wide by his carved picture on a placemat, no less. Matt. 24:44

-- hoot gibson (hoot@pcinetwork.com), July 22, 2000.

Hoot, My Dad before the cancer got him was still takeing care of cattle in pastures in the flint hills of Ks. He was in his 70's before he got too sick & had to give it up! He took care of thousands of acres of pastures & cattle. He would ride his horses each day but there is a LOT OF FLINT ROCK on the side hills/ when his horses were wore down/ he would take my brother's mule, Jerry to ride. I use to live on horse back with my Dad in those pastures--but when I married & left home/ had children- there wasn't much time for rideing! One night my Dad had my Mother ring me up on the phone--as I lived about 1 1/2 hrs away then--Dad got on the phone & said, I got a bunch of sick ones I need to Doctor--it's goin-a-rain tonight & all the pastures will need checked for dead ones (lighten strikes them) & water gaps checked-- can ya come up/ as there is no one to help me! I said, what time are ya going to start/ as if --I didn't already know we would be in those pastures before the sun came up! We decided I better pack my boots & jeans & saddle & come up that night/ so I could be there to get an early start the next morning. Daddy woke me up in the spare bedroom--& said, be quiet let your Mother sleep! I got dressed to find Daddy already had the horse trailor loaded & was waiting on me! When we got to the pasture it was still DARK! Daddy unloaded Jerry, the mule first & asked me to hold him, as he unloaded my horse! Well I hadn't been around Jerry--Dad gave me a lead rope--& when that mule either saw me or smelled me -- he went to brayin & buckin & going on! Talk about wake up in a hurry--I knew if that mule got away from me & with Dad's saddle --we might never catch him the rest of the day--& he had several thousand acres to take off-- in high country to. I dug my heals in & did two cicles to get that rope wrapped around me/ & then wished I had not have done that--as that mule drug me/ until Dad got his spare rope out of the pu. & roped him & got him tamed down. When Dad had him calmed down--he came to check on me--Dad took off his cowboy hat/ (squinted his eyes as the sun was comming up behind me) rubbed his bald head & said, Gosh --I'm sorry Kitten--they told me he didn't like women-I guess I forgot ya was one!!!! Sonda in Ks.

-- Sonda (sgbruce@birch.net), July 22, 2000.

Sonda! That's hilarious! Sounds like Jerry and old jake would get along quite nicely, too. Jake ran off once when riders came by and Jake wanted to go along too. He ran through the electric fence with his rider [about 12 yrs old] and away they went. The rider was deposited alongside the road about 1/4 mile away. Old jake was found grazing with the other horses on a neighbors farm. No, he didn't get beat or anything else. Jeep rode'm on home whilst rubbin his old long ears. Jake is special--know's his'n name and will come when called. If Jeep doesn't feed'm at this certain time in the evening-old Jake starts brayin. He's a good old dude and well thought of around these parts. He hasn't had any beer in about 13 years! Thats not too bad but then again I've not had a beer in about 30 years! Matt. 24:44

-- hoot gibson (hoot@pcinetwork.com), July 24, 2000.

Thanks for the saga of JAKE, Hoot! Poor ole thang!

-- UNCLEJAKE (lulafred@cs.com), July 25, 2000.

Hoot, maybe you should get him a wether goat, just to keep him company. He'd probably live longer and be happier. Some stables keep a goat around just for that purpose!

-- Leann Banta (thelionandlamb@hotmail.com), July 26, 2000.