Another day in T.S.- a true story

This story was written by an acquaintance in T.S. A true story. Thank God he was not injured fatally and his sense of humor is admirable!!! A really good read!!

Clash of the Titans; a true story

"The problem is that if you devote too much thought to how vulnerable we all are - how much we all owe to pure luck, be it good or bad - the mind may lose its equilibrium ... How many of us really imagine we might walk in front of the proverbial bus at any moment?" As the often quoted saying goes " chit happens ". You can experience permanent chit or heavy chit and, well, “the bus takes it's toll''. When it is just plain chit and the bus goes roaring by without visiting its full impact upon us then we take some time to process it and move on. This is one of those situations where I was confronted by heavy chit but the bus amazingly enough just missed me. "The bus" came roaring by this last Saturday in a most unexpected way and then the chit hit the fan.
I left the house that morning to take a short walk over to my neighbors for a quick visit but when I got near his place I could see that he was power washing his truck and so decided to return later when he wasn't quite so busy. I turned to walk back up the lane and saw what we call down here a Macho sauntering along the lane towards me. A Macho is a type of pack animal between a burro and a mule. They are medium-size but very solid and strong, used to carry heavy loads on pack trips here in Baja.
I moved to the side of the road to allow him room to pass by, as I didn't want to scare the poor thing, when I noticed it looking at me rather strangely so I turned around and walked a little further off the road in order to allow it even more room. When I turn around once again I was surprised to find him poised in a position which indicated that he would soon be charging me. His lips were pulled back and he was gnashing his teeth at me with his head slung low and a mean look in his eyes. By the way we are not talking dainty little human teeth here, these babies were each the size of your thumb.Very ominous I must say. I did a double take to say the least but immediately realized that I should prepare for the worst. I looked around me for a possible escape route but I was hemmed in by some brush, palms, and a barb wire fence had nowhere to go. After realizing that I was most likely going to have to put up a defense of some kind I searched the ground around me for some kind of stick or rock or anything that could remotely be considered a weapon to protect myself with. All I could find was the bottom half of a palm leaf. It wasn't much obviously but it was all I had. He charged me with gnashing teeth head-on. I bashed him two quick blows on the nose with my mighty palm leaf which stopped him for a moment but he realized that this was not much of a weapon, shook it off, and made ready to charge again. I didn't think that this palm leaf would work twice so I dropped it and as he neared me I step to the side and grabbed him around the neck and, using his momentum, drove him into the ground. It was somewhat like in a rodeo when the cowboy bulldogs a steer except I had no horns to work with. I had by this time come to the conclusion that a possible explanation for his bizarre behavior would be that this animal had rabies. Therefore my main concern was to keep his mouth and obviously his gnashing teeth away from me. As I was struggling with my adversary I saw out of the corner of my eye a truck drive past me and for a moment hoped that I might receive some assistance but as the truck kept going I realized this was not to be. Later on I would confront this person who I knew, and ask why he didn't stop. His answer was that he was just too scared and was afraid he might chit himself. I have ordered a case of adult pampers which I will deliver to him later.
Meanwhile I had El Macho on the ground and was sitting on his neck and shoulders managing to keep his mouth and teeth away from me but his rear legs were still under him and he managed to pull himself back to his feet and made ready to charge again. As "El Macho" charged the second time I managed to pull off the same maneuver as before except this time my arm was better positioned under his throat and remembering some movies that I had seen where people were put in choke holds to great effect, I applied that hold to "El Macho". We both lay on the ground struggling and while I was squeezing as hard as I could I noticed his breathing became labored. I started to hope that perhaps I would be able to kill him. He started to wheeze, which I was greatly relieved to hear but then with a panicked shot of adrenaline "El Macho" managed to struggle to his feet again. At this point I realized that to continue this titanic struggle any further was going to wear me out long before it did him. I also realized that the odds of continuing to be lucky enough not to be bitten was low and that I had exceeded my good luck quotient by a large margin already. I quickly looked around for options. The only one I could come up with was to either crawl through or somehow go over the barb wire fence behind me. The quickest way to go would be to dive over it somehow it seemed to me but I had never attempted or been required to perform such a drastic act before and was not sure how it was done. I ran up to the fence, put my hands on the top wire, jumped up so my belly was on the wire and flipped my legs up and over the top. Baryshnikov would not have been impressed but he would not have been able to criticize the result. I landed flat on my back on the other side of the fence and quickly got to my feet, looking over at my adversary "El Macho" only to notice that he was not at all perturbed about me having escaped as I expected he would. In fact he didn't look like this had changed anything, strangely enough. It almost seemed to me that he was saying "good try my friend but not good enough". I couldn't really understand his thinking as I was safe on the other side of a barb wire fence, until he turned and started walking towards the gate in the fence. Finally it dawned on me that he was going to just walk around the fence and attack me on the other side. I realized I would possibly have to go back and forth through the fence for quite some time, he would have to at least walk back and forth the long way. This, as you can imagine, was a less than an appealing prospect. I was in luck however and the gate that is usually left open happened to be closed. A great sense of relief washed over me as I realized that this epic battle had come to an end and that although I was battered and bloodied "the bus" had narrowly passed me by. "El Macho" merely turned, without another look in my direction and sauntered off down the lane. No look of defeat. No tip of the hat. No nothing. I was sorely disappointed and felt that he should at least acknowledge me and our struggle in some way. He never looked back.
It was time to assess the physical damage and figure out the answer to that perennial question when chit happens, "what do I do now". I was definitely breathing hard but all in all felt, strangely enough, triumphant. I was of course running on an incredible adrenaline high which would not continue for long. I was scratched up from thorns and brush and was bumped and bruised but mobile. As the high wore off I came to realise that both ankles were sprained and bruises would developing in various places over the next few days. Since my macho fighting muscles were seldom used and therefore out of shape I would spend the next four to five days hopped up on pain pills and hobbling around like an old man. This is no time for snide remarks from the peanut gallery by the way.
My glasses had come off in the fight and I figured that finding them should be my first order of business. I walked around the fence and through the gate and returned to the confined matted down area that marked our battleground to begin my search. As you can imagine looking for your glasses, without your glasses, is like rafting down a river without a raft. It can be done but the likelihood of success is drastically reduced. I noticed that my neighbor had stopped power washing his car and so I yelled over for him. He good-naturedly waved and said "come on over and we'll have a beer''. He was completely unaware that a titanic struggle between man and beast had occurred only 50 feet from where he was working. I asked him to please come over to where I was and that I needed his help. As he got closer he realized something wasn't quite right and a look of concern came over him. Since I was breathing very hard and leaning against a fence post like it was a crutch I think he may have thought I was having a heart attack. I explained the circumstances of my disheveled appearance and could tell that he was quite flabbergasted if not a little skeptical at first, as a burro attack is certainly not considered an everyday event. I enlisted his help in the search for my glasses and we turned up nothing, not a lens, or even a piece of the frame. I would later return with other friends and alone but never found a trace.
At this point I felt that I needed to get myself cleaned up and call the police.
After showering, picking thorns out of various parts of my body, and applying peroxide, I went out to wait for the police to arrive. They finally did and as I was talking to them a truck pulled up with big solid tube steel brush guards on the front. This person reported that his truck had been attacked by El Macho too. Then my neighbor, a French woman, drove up and said that a worker on her property had been beaten up and bitten and needed an ambulance. He was taken to La Paz and treated for injuries and rabies. As I spoke to them I realized that these attacks had happened before El Macho had gotten to me and if they had called the police at that time he might never have crossed my path. The ''keystones'' went off in search of the black knight. As a clever friend of mine said after telling him my tale '' at least he won't be difficult to find. He will be the only burro with glasses on''. Very funny Romo. ''El Macho'' was eventually found and dispatched. My dream of Lucha Jaime vs. El Macho 2 on the undercard of the upcoming Pacheau vs. Mayweather super fight was not to be. I decided therefore to retire from macho wrestling and return to my ''normal'' life here in Todos Santos, sipping Coronas and dreaming of my glory days.
I am at the end of this tale, the end of the titanic struggle between Lucha Jaime and El Macho. I leave you with this advice, you can't always hear the bus coming, but the instant you do, jump. Here's hoping you choose the right direction.

P.S. It has taken me more than a week to get to sending this out. I needed time to turn the horror of the situation into a somewhat acceptable memory. Although I have presented a lighthearted and hopefully humorous account, rest assured there was nothing funny at the time. I am still hobbling around a week later but I am finally moving on. Monday it's back to work and time will take care of the rest.

"Some Days You Eat the Bear"

WOW!!

I know I should take this story seriously, but I just can't help laughing my arse off, picturing this guy/girl wrestling with a burro. Must have been a sight to behold. If true, this person ought to take up writing for some comedy shows. God knows, they can use it.
Great story.

This story is absolutely true! Although very concerned, while I was reading it I already knew that he was OK, so I was also consumed with laughter... the funniest part to me was when I thought El Macho was just going to walk around the side of the fence. And also looking for a burro with glasses!

The burro had rabies... not usual behavior

If you read towards the end of the story... he had attacked others prior to Jaime.
Very scary!!

[Edited on 2010-2-18 by Marie-Rose]