Horse Sense
«Debra Meyer»
“She’s
strong,” the cowboy offered,
With a twinkle in his eye.
“I’ll wager she’s got bottom,
With no quit and lots of try.”
With a twinkle in his eye.
“I’ll wager she’s got bottom,
With no quit and lots of try.”
I glanced in
the direction
That his nod bid me to go.
“Purty head, a real nice neck,
She looks fine enough to show.”
That his nod bid me to go.
“Purty head, a real nice neck,
She looks fine enough to show.”
“I betcha
she ain’t cold-backed,
Like some others I have knowed.
She’s fit and not too fleshy.”
Words of praise pert nearly flowed.
Like some others I have knowed.
She’s fit and not too fleshy.”
Words of praise pert nearly flowed.
I gaped in
pure confusion,
At a hammer-headed mare.
She’d been around the range some,
You could plainly see the wear.
At a hammer-headed mare.
She’d been around the range some,
You could plainly see the wear.
Her pig eyes
stared out blankly,
Her old cowhocks nearly kissed,
The faults I seen was endless,
They’s too numerous to list.
Her old cowhocks nearly kissed,
The faults I seen was endless,
They’s too numerous to list.
The cowboy
had horse savvy.
His pronouncements took as law,
But the crazy he was talkin’
Worked my brain ‘til it was raw.
His pronouncements took as law,
But the crazy he was talkin’
Worked my brain ‘til it was raw.
A fever
might a took’im
Or his eyes was gettin’ dim.
I’s scramblin’ for the answer,
When I stopped and looked at him.
Or his eyes was gettin’ dim.
I’s scramblin’ for the answer,
When I stopped and looked at him.
No squintin’
nor a’quakin’
So I knew I had to ask.
“Pard,” I queried cautiously,
“Ya been emptyin’ yer flask?”
So I knew I had to ask.
“Pard,” I queried cautiously,
“Ya been emptyin’ yer flask?”
His gaze was
straight and level,
As he looked me in the eye.
“Nope,” was all he said to me,
But his count’nance added “why?”
As he looked me in the eye.
“Nope,” was all he said to me,
But his count’nance added “why?”
I spluttered
and I stammered,
Tried in vain to find my voice.
I didn’t want to tell him,
But there clearly weren’t no choice.
Tried in vain to find my voice.
I didn’t want to tell him,
But there clearly weren’t no choice.
“Well,” I
started nervously,
Tryin’ hard not to affront.
“That hoss ain’t naught but crowbait!”
Hadn’t meant to be so blunt.
Tryin’ hard not to affront.
“That hoss ain’t naught but crowbait!”
Hadn’t meant to be so blunt.
“A greenhorn
ought not question,
The fine wisdom I bestow.”
The cowboy was a’smilin’,
Talkin’ soft and kinda slow.
The fine wisdom I bestow.”
The cowboy was a’smilin’,
Talkin’ soft and kinda slow.
His grin
kept gettin’ bigger,
Till it lit the whole corral.
“Ne’er said it were the mare, son.
I was talkin’ ’bout the gal.”
Till it lit the whole corral.
“Ne’er said it were the mare, son.
I was talkin’ ’bout the gal.”
A purty
senorita,
Led that nag on out the gate.
He watched as she departed,
“Looky there, she’s trackin’ straight.”
Led that nag on out the gate.
He watched as she departed,
“Looky there, she’s trackin’ straight.”
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