Of Jules and Julie

I just learned about Jules this morning in an email. Jules is the 10-month-old son of our French guest who stayed with us for three summers back in the 1990s. My veterinarian told me she was going to France in June and that Caen was one of her destinations with her sister-in-law and her grandfather.

So, I told her about our French friends, and she said she'd love to meet them. I wrote a letter a couple of weeks ago and heard back from them this morning. It was a pleasant surprise to learn about Jules. We considered Romain a member of the family from Day One, and he blended in as if he'd been living with us forever---Schwan's personal pizzas and Twinkies included.

We haven't seen Romain for quite some time but occasionally hear from his parents. He is now a heart specialist whose research has received some attention among the European medical community. And, now he is a father. We're anxious to see photos of his son and we're thrilled for him.

Congratulations, Romain.

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Then, there's Julie. She's a former student, one of many with whom I've reconnected through Facebook. She saw a note I'd left about C.J. Box's novel Blue Heaven and said she'd have to read it.

Since "Blue Heaven" is a term used for the North Idaho area where hundreds of California cops loved to move after retiring, Julie was reminded of a childhood experience involving a retired policeman who was their neighbor.

I found her story about the "cop and the cow" hysterical, and I was delighted with Julie's storytelling abilities. She was always an outstanding student in my honors English class, so this came as no surprise. I asked her if I could share her story with my blog readers, and she graciously said yes.

So, here's some fun reading. I love the images. Enjoy.

From Julie Imholte Lind in Arizona:

Thanks for the recommendation about Blue Heaven. I had to laugh when I started reading it. A retired cop from California moved next door to us in Cocolalla. It's one of my favorite childhood memories. Thought I’d share it with you.

When I was in grade school, the house next door to us sold to a retired California police officer. This sent my dad into a weeklong rant about the ruination of Idaho at the hands of Californians. Soon after our new neighbor moved in, someone drove up and delivered a new freezer as we watched out of our dining room window.

Interesting.

After that, another truck and trailer pulled up to the cop's front door. From the back of the trailer, a cow sauntered down a ramp directly onto the cop's front yard.

More interesting.

As you might imagine, we all got drinks and snacks and sat there watching like we had happened upon a really interesting TV show. We lived on a hill in the woods, but it was still residential and no one on Lakeview Drive had anything larger than a dog.

Shortly after the trailer pulled away, the cop took a rope and tied the cow to a pine tree right in front of his house. As we were all watching and wondering and my dad was saying things I can’t repeat about the intellect of Californians, we were sent into a stunned silence. The cop was pacing off in front of the cow. To our disbelief, the cop had a service revolver on his hip and his hand was on it. (Pause for effect.)

My mom began to scream and I hit the door because there was no way I was going to miss this! As I ran out the door to watch, the cop pulled out his revolver and took a shot at the cow. Unfortunately, the bullet only grazed the cow’s head. That cow jumped back, broke the rope and headed right for our house. He jumped the small fence between our yards and took off at a wild gallop down our hill.

Like a scene out of "Starsky and Hutch," the cop gave chase after the cow, his gun in hand now pointed into the air. This began a half-hour chase. My mom was at the door screaming for me to get back in the house, but I jumped down the hill for a front row seat to this delicious fiasco! There was more of a chance of the cop catching the stampeding cow than of my mom catching me, so I kept going.

The cop took at least three more shots as the cow zig zagged down the hill toward the lake. When the wounded, beat bovine got to the beach just below our house, it took one look and made a suicidal dive into the water. The cop finally arrived at the beach and we watched in disbelief as the cow swam in circles in the shallow water cutting through tullies and panting wildly. It soon dawned on me what a horrid execution this had become and I began to cry.

The cow eventually swam to a beach in front of a small vacation cabin adjacent to our lake access. It literally staggered to the beach, fell down and died. The chase had ended, but the final dilemma became apparent when the cop realized that this beach had no access road and our beach was about 100 feet away and the road was all uphill.

After consulting every neighbor about what to do--because evidently no one in North Idaho had ever tried to slaughter a cow in a duel and then butcher it on a beach--the cop finally decided to hang it from a tree and butcher it over the sand.

My parents never let this guy live this down and must have commented for years on their belief that the meat from that cow must have been the toughest meat ever consumed. We were never offered any.

I'm through about half the book now and am looking forward to finishing it. Thanks again!