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Some years ago, we went to Alberta to shoot gophers near my wife's family farm, for 2 weeks every summer. We got to know several farmers quite well, and they used to start phoning my wife's brother to make sure that we were coming to shoot on their farms.
One neighbor, Dave, had a farm to the west which had pastures for his beef cattle and for the mules that he raced.
He had a black, mule, brown, and grey one that was the color of the dry soil in the area.
One time, we drove into his farm and saw the black and brown mules in the pasture, but no sign of the grey mule. After a bit of looking, we spotted the grey mule, lying on its side in a dirt wallow, sound asleep.
We were looking over the fence when Dave came out and we jawed for a bit, then I asked him if he could settle a bet. He said that he would try.
I asked him what was the black animal in the pasture, and he looked perplexed and said that it was his black mule. I asked about the brown animal: "My brown mule." he responded, looking even more perplexed. "OK", I said, "so what's that in that dirt wallow?". "My grey mule!" he responded, shaking his head.
I turned to my friend and said, "See, I told you that the neighbors were wrong about Dave!".
Now, Dave was really wondering if we'd lost our minds, and he asked, "What's all this about?".
I replied, "The neighbors were wrong when the said that you didn't know your buttock from a hole in the ground!".
Decades, I'd waited for such an opportunity.
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