It was high noon just outside a desolate prairie town when the two haggard hombres squared off. They eyed each other with a casual calm that only exaggerated the chill in the air. Oh, they’d met before, and under similar circumstance; one had the scars to prove it, hidden now from eye, but festering in heart and mind. This day, this moment, had arrived as surely as a sunrise, but could a sunset hold them both ever again? Overhead, the light glistened down in glee, revelling in the starkness, the secrets it revealed. A single bead of sweat wet a brow. It was not missed by the weary opponent.

“You’re skeered!” drawled a revitalized voice.

“Am not,” came the automatic reply.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

It was AI season down on the deer farm and breeding strategies differed between partners.  Ima had turned the tables once again and Jake was left with nothing in his hand but a piece of paper. He held it up now with an air of pretentious confidence. “See this?” he stammered, “I can so do it. I’m a certified AI technician fresh out of the college of  ‘Insemination Is Easy,” fully qualified to practice on cattle, swine, deer and dogs according to the highly respected Dr. Krawl. So there!”

“Then take my bet, but you’re gonna regret ‘cause I’m the best there’s ever been,” Ima sang out.

“What are you talk’n about? You’ve got absolutely zero experience and even less training,” Jake responded incredulously.

“Hmmmmm….and yet I challenge! What does that say, Honey? Come on then!” she taunted, “Take up the challenge. I bet ya even I could AI with better results. Or better yet, drop the hair-brain idea and let a real expert do it.”

Jake was shaken. She was right of course. Who was he to think he could actually AI whitetailed deer with any success? It was, after all, a ridiculous notion and it had taken an equally ridiculous challenge from his well-meaning wife, his partner, to make him realize his inadequacy. He had no choice.

“You’re on!” he growled. His very maleness challenged, Jake had done what any man must do- catch his wife in some ridiculous challenge that she for once could not possibly win.

“But there are ground rules,” Jake went on. “You’re not allowed to go out and suddenly get AI training.”

“No problem,” Ima replied. “I’ve seen it done.”

Jake shook his head. He almost felt sorry for her. “And no so-called-expert can be around helping you out either,” he added.

“Oh, the absence of expertise is something I’m actually counting on,” Ima smiled annoyingly.

Not actually catching the intended dig, Jake ignored her. “Other than that, we both choose semen from wherever we like, AI on the same date, and then turn ‘em out with old “Big Shooter” and see how many each of us has out of the AI sires come spring. Deal?”

“Loser does all the night-shift bottlefeeding?” Ima interjected.

“Sounds oh-so-good,” Jake yawned, already enjoying those glorious sleeps ahead.

“Deal,” declared Ima with obvious over-confidence.

A quick handshake later, the couple parted ways, one to familiarize and strategize, the other to dinnerize and Pamperize. Jake headed straight to the computer to do a little surf’n and search’n for the premier donor. Technology was an obvious asset and Jake was taking no chances. He’d use every advantage to ensure a victory and planned on monopolizing the computer so that “wifey” couldn’t sneak in some chat room AI training.

Three days later, Ima helped Jake turn on the computer. “I’m not asking for your help,” Jake assured her. “I’m seeing if you remember how to do it.”

With each passing day, Jake’s confidence grew. Sometimes he’d actually catch himself chuckling out loud as the odds stacked up in his favour. He’d stop though and remind himself that this was all about winning a bet and not about putting his wife in her place. Then he’d burst out in a fit of laughter at his silly attempt at self-deception and dreamily imagine Ima being wrong. “Then it might even happen a second time some day,” he thought with a smile.

Jake’s smile was nothing, however, compared with the gleam in his wife’s eyes and the grin that never left her face. “You’re an odd one,” he declared one evening as she smiled mysteriously in amazing silence.

“I married you,” is all she said, but an air of humour removed any malice from her words.

Jake studied from dawn to dusk and evenings were spent searching for a super-sire. He reviewed daily, and could be found sneaking subtle glances at his does’ anatomy while feeding the hungry beasts. “I’ve got’m,” Jake bellowed with joy one evening from the office. “My secret super-semen-sire is in place. Just call me Dr. Doolittle, but be sure to show proper respect,” he strutted around the room.

“Well, Dr. Do Little.” Ima interrupted the pride parade, “ ‘Dr. Ruth’ may surprise you yet!”

“What d’ya mean? When I phoned her she told me even she wouldn’t get into this AI thing. And besides, no experts allowed! Remember?”

As the AI days rolled around, Jake had yet to see his self-confident wife researching sires. For a moment he wondered if she knew something he didn’t, but realizing the far-fetchedness of that idea, dismissed it immediately. Ten does each soon turned into 10 for Jake and 8 for Ima when two of hers dropped their CIDRs.  Sloppy technique and inadequate preparation were obvious factors and admitted quite readily by Ima. Still she smiled.

“You OK, Babe?” Jake asked, a bit worried about that apparently senseless smile. “Getting enough sleep? Twins been too tough on you? I’ll take one from your back- pack for the actual AI if you want.”

“No, no,” Ima responded quickly and cheerfully. “I’m used to carrying family burdens. Better that you just do your best and then watch a winner at work!”

The big day arrived at last and Jake was nearly crowing when the does came through. All ten of his were in full heat. Four of Ima’s eight were in a similar state. His comments flowed steady from, “should’ve studied, Babe” to “never bet a man in the know,” but Ima took it all in stride.

Days later they prepared the does for release into the back-up pen and “Big Shooter” paced incessantly knowing what was in store! “Wanta know what really sealed it for me, Babe?” Jake put a consoling arm around his wife. “Yeah, I really was good at the technique and all, but the real clincher was the sire!” Jake was getting excited just talking about his find. “I found him on the internet. Turns out this buck is not only huge on top of his head, he’s got it where it really counts. We’re talking about 50 bizillion live guys per straw and something like 200% motility. Those are pretty technical terms, I know, but you’ll catch on. Anyway, this buck’s so potent they call him ‘WOW’. Can’t beat that, hey? So really, you didn’t have a chance from the beginning, but I’ll listen to the kids at night once in awhile next spring when you’re bottlefeeding all those fawns. By the way, who’d you AI to anyway?”

Ima pulled the rope and the does poured out of the corral. “Big Shooter” never wasted time and bred 3 in 3 minutes. “Oh,” Ima yawned and allowed herself to drift dreamily ahead a season. “I AI’d everything to “Big Shooter.”

-L.O.L

Author’s note:

All characters and events portrayed in this story are mainly fictional. Any resemblance to actual people, places or events is purely intentional….