From as far back as I can remember I have always wanted to be a cowboy. I think I have this in common with a lot of little boys.

My journey, learning about horses and cows, has taken me to five or six western states, Mexico, Spain, Portugal, and even England.

Everywhere I’ve been there were men and women a’horseback working cattle. their variety of skills were a wonder to see. I’ve tried to copy them, and have conquered quite a few. Some have been beyond my ability.

I’ve learned to ride and train horses, and how to guess at cows motivations, but as a roper I’m definitely third string! I’ve learned to understand how livestock behave, survive, communicate and defend their young ( boy howdy, just try putting ear tags in newborn Corriente calves!) It is a wondrous world, that of animals in nature.

So even though I’m not the reincarnation of Toots Mansfield, I can flip a rope a little and I have carved out my own place in cowboydom ( cowboy dumb?) And, it’s an okay place.

Like Wiley Gustafson sings:

“When I’m ridin’ I’m right

I’m a happy cowpoke,

wind in my face

and my pony at a lope.

My reins are loose

and my cinch is tight.

I’m on top of the world,

when im ridin’ I’m right!”