Several times the famous Budweiser Clydesdale horses visited the Collier County Fair. Always a crowd pleaser, the beautiful, majestic, equines, drawing the famous ornate wagon, were a highlight of the events schedule. Folks just loved them.
One year a deputy we'll call Humane Harry was assigned the overnight guard duty of the oversized oaters. The regular handler of the Clydesdales gave Harry a description of his watchdog duties.
"Most of the time they'll sleep standing up," he said, "but they have to sleep a couple hours laying down to get fully rested. Trouble is, sometimes they won't get up after they've been there a while. And if they lay there too long it can be dangerous, the weight and all. Just like an elephant. That's where you come in."
"Come in how?" Harry asked.
"You have to get them on their feet if they sleep too long."
Harry looked at the giant horses--some weighing over a ton--then back at the handler. "How the hell am I gonna do that?"
"I use this," the handler said, handing Harry a six-foot length of 2 by 4 lumber. "Just like you swing a baseball bat. Right on the ass."
"You've got to be kidding," Harry said. "I'm not gonna do that." And he didn't, walking off the job.
When asked by the Lieutenant, that assigned duty, why he'd abandoned his post, Harry replied. "First thing, I love horses. Second, who do you think the public would hang first if they caught me whammin' on a Clydesdale with a 2-by-heavy? Me or the Sheriff?"
His point was well taken.
Editor's note: Some folks, who know horses, tell me this story is apocryphal, that the handler had to be putting Harry on, that Clydesdales don't need special wakeup calls. I don't know. I'm just reporting what happened. And it damn sure happened.
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