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Cowboy Poetry

The Old Cowboy
Author James H. Wilson
November 11, 2000
© Copyright 2000

THE OLD COWBOY Part Twelve 
(continued)

"Mom have we got any pictures of grandma and grandpa?"

Mon shook her head, "Yes, they are in your dad's foot locker, in your brother's closet."

As I headed for the closet, mom said, "Bring them on down here, and I'll look at them with you."

After dinner we cleaned the table and washed the dishes. Mom washed and I dried while I put them away. For mom and dad, the pictures reminded them of where they've been. For me, it was seeing grandma for the first time, and seeing grandpa as he was when grandma and him were young.

We looked at those old pictures 'til almost bedtime. The next morning I woke up ready to go riding. After the pictures of 'Ol Tanner I could see why grandpa had such respect for the animal.

'Tanner' and grandpa side by side, was looking at how the west was won. Grandpa doesn't claim to be a pioneer or the hero of anybody's saving, but it was plain that he had a large part in the taming of the wild west. He has herded cows from Oklahoma to California, from Santa Fe to the Red River, Colorado to the Rio Grande, and the 'Queama Land and Cattle Company' near Santa Barbara.

No grandpa won't lay claim to it but he made 'all around cowboy' three years in a row. He did most of the breaking for every ranch he rode for. I saw pictures of him holding that old felt 3x beaver hat in one hand and reins in the other. Up in the air, his butt clear of the saddle, that horse's back arched up and completely off the ground.

"High ya grandpa," I waved riding up to the porch where grandpa sat with his hat pulled down a bit and leaning back in his chair.

He leaned forward and pointed up with his cane, "Grandboy, you bring an umbrella for . . . 


To Be Continued. . . 

THE OLD COWBOY Part Twelve, Copyright ©  2000, 2001, 2002

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