Sara pointing quail was witnessed by two friends one time and sparked a story which is not true, but possibly could have been. It goes like this:   Once, I invited a couple of friends quail hunting.  When they arrived, I had Sara ready to go and they asked why I was taking her.  I replied that we needed her along to act as our bird dog to find the quail.  They began to eye me in a strange questioning way, but shrugged their shoulders and came along.  Well, it wasn’t too far into the hunt that Sara stopped and pointed.  I told them to get position quickly and away the quail went.  They each got one bird and the excitement rose to a high pitch.  One of them exclaimed that was a sight to see, a mule pointing quail like a birddog, the only difference being that she did not point her tail straight up or lift one foot, she just used her ears.  The other said that the birds had spread out along the edge of the river and he had marked them down.  Let’s go after them!  I told them as calmly and politely as I could that we couldn’t go after the quail down by the river.  They wanted to know why and I told them the reason.  If we go down to the river, the quail hunting would be over.  Sara wouldn’t hunt quail anymore because she would rather fish than hunt! 

We had a few Santa Gertrudis cows and bulls.  One of the bull calves was selected for a show calf and the training began.  After the show, we kept the little bull for a herd sire.  He was really a gentle natured bull. That is until one day before it was planned he got loose and joined up with the cows up top.  We called all the land that was not under irrigation up top and everything else down bottom.  I went up to get him on Sara Gay and took his halter and a lead rope.  I hitched up the girth pretty tight and roped the bull that was now approaching 1200 lbs. and would be close to 2000 when he was fully grown.  He stood still while I put his halter on and loosened the lariat.  Well this bull definitely did not want to leave the cow that he had just bred and I did not know for sure that we were going to be successful taking him back down bottom.  I nudged Sara Gay and she slowly took up the slack and the bull began to pull back.  Sara leaned into the load and rocked over in her shoulders to the other foot and pulled the bull off his balk and we began to move.  We moved off at a good pace and Sara kept the bull moving right along and got him back in the barn pens where he belonged without a hitch except for his protesting all the way. 

When we were hunting elk or deer in the mountains, Sara would see about half the animals before I did and I saw the others before she did.  I guess it was different lighting for different types of eyes that made the difference as to what was seen first. Sometimes when we were going down a steep slope, something would begin to pinch her and she would turn in toward the high side of the trail and buckjump in place a couple of times, then I would get off and check it out to find the problem.  I finally quit using a crupper under her tail and would use the back cinch behind under her tail and this proved to please her much better and kept me from sliding forward as well.  We were coming back at night one time with no moon and hardly any light at all when Della the mule that was in the lead at the time stopped abruptly. Don Vestal got off and cautiously felt with his feet in front of Della and discovered that the trail had been washed out and therew as a drop off.  Don got back on and turned Della around and gave her her head.  She worked down the bank to the side of the trail and went on down the trail.  The next time that she stopped, Don got off and found the back of the horse trailer.  I cannot end the story about Sara Gay just yet because she is still living and enjoying her oats every day. At the time of this writing  the date is November 6, 2006. In March 2007 she will be 39 and holding. People have asked why I still keep her and I tell them that we have been over hill and dale together and she saved my bacon several times by not panicking in adverse situations that could have gotten me hurt badly or worse.