by Slim Randles
(cnbnews.net) “Ain’t nothing in the world dumber’n a horse,” said Dud, pulling up his chair at the Mule Barn truck stop’s philosophy counter. “I swear they have just enough brains to walk and breathe at the same time.”
Steve, the full-time professional cowboy of the outfit, looked over at Dud, who was part-time at best. “Ol’ Henry scrape you off under a limb, Dud?”
“How could you tell?”
“It must be that bark print across the front of your shirt,” said Doc.
“I deal with horses every day,” Steve said, “and I can sympathize with you, but you’re wrong. The dumbest animal in the world is a turkey.”
“Sheep,” said Doc.
“My wife’s cat,” said Herb. We all looked at him.
“Well, he is,” Herb said.
“Scientifically speaking, though,” said Steve, “the intelligence quotient of the turkey is just slightly above that of the earthworm. They only reason they’re smart enough to mate with each other is that no one else wants the job.”
Doc, who has more degrees than a thermometer, said, “Nope. It’s sheep. Why, they’re so dumb …”
“Seven Years has ‘em beat,” said Herb, decisively.
“My wife’s cat. Seven Years. Ever wonder how he got named?”
No one encouraged him.
“He attacked a cat in a mirror and broke it,” Herb said.
“Well,” Steve said, “that’s pretty dumb.”
Herb sipped his coffee. “Only thing dumber’n Seven Years is a flat, brown rock.”
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