Don't let the 9-year-old girl fool you, she knows who to bet on.

 

We headed back to Gramps's to pit Philo against the cocks in the trunk of the rental. Rhonda was drinking Dr. Pepper mixed with Southern Comfort, but she shared some Cisco with her son Alex and Gramps -- it was touching.

We set up some bets and Rod bet against Philo. The new comer hadn't been fought by them before -- Alex just found it roaming around and recognized it as a fighting cock because it's flappy chickenhead thing was cut off. He'd never seen it fight it previously refused to fight, but today for some reason, it was ready to go.

When Rod bet $10 on the newcomer, I wanted to side with him, but he said I had to bet on my own cock. Brad bet Alex $20 and Bill and I were shut out with no one to bet. Emma asked if the chickens were going to fight to the death and Rod told her of course, that's how it works. She was sad because she had befriended Philo and fed him. Then she bet me a buck that Philo would lose, "He's so pretty, too bad he has to die." I took her bet hoping that I could take the 9-year-old girl for all her money at a cockfight.

Rod and Alex decided to fight with gaffs that were like 2 inch curved ice-picks. I set down my Coors and held Philo while Alex wrapped a leg and tied on a gaff. While I was holding on, Emma walked up to the piss-cow, and reached out to pet it on the nose. What was I supposed to say? "Hey kid, don't do that. Your cow stuck its nose in my piss." I wondered if she would just assume my urine was cow snot, but something stopped her just before she reached the nose and she pulled her hand back. Brad held on for the second leg, so we could both take part. Pacheco sat with his head on his lap looking very much like he was about to puke up his Cisco. He held it back and in a couple minutes was fine.

Tying on the gaff.

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