Ken went to use the Gator this morning. His intention was to drive the pastures and end up at the ranch house where he would get some exercise puttering around the water trough. But there was no key in the ignition which puzzled him, as the key never leaves the machine. And the seat had been ripped. We live on the top of the hill and no one just wanders by to cause any damage so he had to concede that the cattle had ripped the seat and removed the key.
First Ken searched the bowl in the house, thinking that perhaps he had taken the key into the house. No such luck. I felt sure that the cows would have swallowed the key but Ken started looking around the Gator and sure enough, found it. It had been chewed, but spit out. And it still worked.
He used duct tape to repair the rip in the seat so now all is well with the Gator. Ken had left the Gator outside the fence at the Top House. When we arrived home after dining at the Muckleroy's home, I asked Ken if he wanted to bring the Gator into the yard, but he thought he was too tired, which turned out to be a mistake. Those cows were clever to remove the key from the ignition. It must not have been easy, which was why the horns ripped the seat. It was a good lesson to us.
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