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Adele Schott

A GOOD WOMAN

I am not a bad cowboy, no really, Im not.

I am a better cowboy than a woman, by a long shot.

To be fair the standards for each role are uneven.

To be a good cowboy, you just follow the cow

but to be a good woman, well boys, I still don’t know how.

Here let me tell you about my day and then maybe you can see

What I am saying, afterall, it took a man to explain it to me.

The brand inspector is always early and I am rarely on time.

I hate to keep a good one waiting,

So on the morning he said he would be there at 8, I got up at 545.

I was at the tackroom with headlamp before the sun ever made it’s debut.

I looked ahead for my horse when I noticed the gate to the catch pen was

a-skewed.

No matter I thought, this good steed of mine, he likes me enough,

I’ll head down the draw and he will come running to pick me right up.

I overestimated this bond as when he caught site me, a bobbing light in the dark,

He ran off kind of like my kids do when its last call at the park.

By the time I had gotten him gathered up, both of now out of breath,

I apologized for the earlier comments involving glue sticks and death.

I had lost a few minutes but was still doing fine

I jumped in the saddle with my good dog and my other dog close behind.

Then we found the steers pretty easy, got them gathered and then

With only five tries or so we made around the drift panels and into the pen.

Now solitary sorting can be a little tricky, awkward at best,

Like dancing alone , you have to just forget looking cool and put your moves to

the test.

A pocket full of throwing rocks and a long stick help too.

At least there is no one there to yell, I said that one, not that one, when let the

wrong black cow through.

So in mere moments or more I had managed to pick out the heaviest of the lot

and put them in the alley way where I had backed the trailed up on the first shot.

I checked the time on my phone and it was official I had won,

I had finally out earlied that ol son of a gun.

As I sat there a waiting I felt suddenly wrong,

I must be missing something, it is unnatural to sit for so long.

I decided I could make his job easier if I drew up each brand,

The location, the number, the address and weather it was a sir or a mam.

I heard the dogs bark and just before I caught sight of his hood

I checked myself in the mirror, I looked pretty, not bad, eh, pretty good.

I gave ol Jim the notes and sat back as he looked for verification.

And I thought about those cattle, how long I had had them and all the risks I had

taken.

I had bought em and grazed them, kept them healthy until,

I took them ten at time up, on ten hour days just to be humanely killed.

Each box of beef was then delivered by me,

50 pounds at a time, door to door, around my sweet community.

I had trained that black horse I was riding, had him since he was four

and my good dog had my instructing and the other one would be getting more.

Jim, the inspector said my papers looked fine.

But the strange missing feeling was still there, making me feel out of line.

I signed the slips and as I wrote out a check,

He told me of a lady rancher he had just met.

Shes a great woman he said, runs cows like you do,

only maybe four or five hundred more give or take a few.

Oh shes the best you should meet her he told me with candor.

I would love to. What is it about her?

You said she was a great woman and so I am curious.

He smiled wide then said plainly, she made a sandwich, it was delicious.

There it was I realized the thing I was missing,

a decent cowboy, fine

but a good woman would have brought something from the kitchen.

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