Denis Lehane: To Westmeath of the pastures in search of a bull
One was a dwarf of the very small kind,
Who if the right bull came along, I felt would be fine.
The other had a mouth of crooked teeth so beguiling,
That would have you believe she was constantly smiling.
But now was the time for looking ahead,
I would put them in calf, new beginnings, enough said.
I had dreamed of AI but the expense it was great,
So I figured on a bull, being the only clear mate.
A bull it would be for my heifers so fine.
To this paper I went searching, one ad at a time.
Then I spotted this notice for a famous bull sale,
So I tackled up my box and to Westmeath we set sail.
Twas on Saturday last that the sale was arranged.
On the farm of O’Leary, the guy with the planes.
I arrived at the spot, with some of my family in tow,
Young Robert and Denise came along for the show.
And to the sales ring we wandered, my nerves they were great,
For here I believed I would find my heifers’ mate.
Then in came the first bull, a fine lad to be sure.
An Angus with more records than old Christy Moore.
His pedigree it was stated was well beyond reproach
So blessing myself, the bidding I did broach.
I expected to start, at three hundred or four.
Before getting him finally for a few quid more,
But I was left flabbergasted when the sale it did start.
Twas in thousands they climbed, twas the expensive old mart.
Never before in my life, had I seen such a sale,
My mouth it remained open, my face it ran pale.
And in came the next one, the story the same,
No bid could I throw, my trip was in vain.
“O’Leary,” says I, turning in anger to the boss,
“Your bulls are too dear,” I was really quite cross.
So to shorten my story, to cut to the chase,
I came home with nothing, t’was a thundering disgrace.
But when I got home, to my surprise and delight,
All was not lost for my heifers that night,
A neighbour’s old bull, whose breed is unknown,
Had climbed the bounds ditch, making this farm his home.
And without wanting to be crude, or course don’t you see,
My heifers are in calf now, of that I guarantee.
For while the bull might have been ugly, and as scraggy as you please,
He certainly knew all about the birds and the bees.
So to wrap up my story at the end of it all,
Didn’t a free bull turn up, to answer my call.
