Old Bueford bragged about his bull,
It’s named Sir Reginald III,
How he won at the county fair
And how fast Reggie worked the herd.

But then Reggie just got lazy,
He wouldn’t even chase a cow,
Bueford complained that his dang bull
Was too lazy to earn his chow.

Bueford called the veterinary
And told him of ole Reggie’s plight.
The vet said he had something good
To give ole Reggie back his fight.

The vet gave Reggie several pills
That brought back Bueford’s happy smiles.
‘Cause Reggie went right out courting
All of the cows around for miles.

Then Bueford’s wife told Sally
About their bull’s recovery,
Now Sally must have thought the pills
A wonderful discovery.

She asked if Bueford knew the name,
Their bull was in need of some too.
Bueford said, “They taste like chocolate,”
Was the only thing his wife knew.

Bueford’s Bull is, of course, a tongue-in-cheek poem about a popular prescription drug. Ruth didn’t think that I should write about it in a family-oriented book but advertisements are in every magazine and on TV. Even an ex-presidential candidate is doing commercials about it, so why not?