Cowboy Culture

By Clay Reid

Hello folks. Welcome to another edition of Redneck Chronicles by the ever lovable Clay Reid. Of course it’s deadline time and I am scrambling to get my content in before the boss lady raps a knot on my head. Be easy on me. I am slow and stupid, but my desire has been hard to find lately.

Anyway, as I was walking around the house trying to inspire myself to sitting down and starting as well as finding motivation on my topic, I stubbed my toe, and for whatever reason it spurred a memory of a visit to the Dan Trigg Memorial Hospital in Tucumcari, N.M., many moons ago.

I was working for Singleton Ranches on a place that used to be owned by Dr. Dan Trigg. I let my temper get the best of me, and after a bunch of calves ran off from the herd, I decided that one, if not all, of those midget bovines were going to feel the wrath of my 30 foot leash that is sometimes called a lasso.

I took to those suckers cussing and a crying and a spurring and a whipping. I was madder than a hornets’ nest because it was getting dang close to dinner time, and I was so hungry I could have ate a horse. I believe they call it being “hangry” these days. You call it what you will, but nothing ever good comes out of it.

We were moving these pairs up the mountain to a new pasture, and we were short handed to start with and even more short handed when our boss man decided that he wanted to pretend he was John Wayne in the movie “Red River.” You see he had his old lady drive the cake truck and sook these cows, and me and my old buddy Cody Jack followed behind pushing them along. Well, boss man thinks for some reason he has to be on point leading the cake truck.

To read more pick up a copy of the October 2017 NTFR issue. To subscribe call 940-872-5922.