Cowboy Finds Dudes Entertaining,
If A Trifle Hard To Loose-Herd

By Curt Brummett

Well, people, this summer has been interesting, to say the least.

I've met people from Cairo, Egypt; Belgium; France; South and East Africa; London, England; Aberdeen, Scotland; California; upstate New York; Pennsylvania; Chicago and even Roswell, New Mexico.

For the most part, I've had a lot of fun visiting with these people. And for the most part, these people were pretty good to be around. There were one or two that weren't all that cheerful, but overall they are great people.

One particular group I got acquainted with was from upstate New York, Chicago, Pennsylvania and midstate New York.

None of these people had ever seen a horse, much less touched one, and all of them wanted to learn.

So after a few days of riding lessons (basic cowboy type) they were all thinking about moving to Texas.

When I give riding lessons I just go through the basics. You know, "Look, lady, you just keep a leg on each side and your mind in the middle." "Yes ma'am, it is allowed to hold on to the saddle horn. If it was meant to honk, we would have a battery pack built into the swells." And, "No ma'am, when the horse stops, it doesn't mean he's tired; it means he's running a bluff and trying to make you think he's the boss."

One young couple from Cairo came to the pens one afternoon just as I was turning the horses out.

They were impressed with the size of the horses, not to mention their quickness.

The man did most of the speaking (as well it should have been). "We were told that you have some very calm horses."

I knew from his accent he wasn't from Midland.

I told 'im I had some sure-nuff gentle horses.

He asked if I could give him and his wife some lessons.

No problem.

"When do you want to start?"

That afternoon.

Minor problem: I had just turned out the gentle horses, and I had kept two dedicated idiots up to use the next morning. I told 'em it would be just a minute and I would have each one a gentle horse to ride.

Well, I can usually catch either of these horses without any trouble, but on that particular day they decided to pretend they were not catchable.

As I was in the process of bouncing them off the fence for the third time and getting ready to rope one of 'em, the man came to the fence and in a very mild voice called out to me.

"Sir, I don't think you understand, we would like some really, really calm horses."

It took a few minutes to explain to them why the horses were acting like they were, but after a couple of hours, I had them walking around the arena like seasoned dudes on a couple of really calm horses.

The group of people from New York, Chicago, and Pennsylvania all wanted to learn to ride. And that's how we all got acquainted at the same time.

It was a lot of fun (so to speak).

After about three days of walking, trotting and learning how to get on and off a horse without ending up sprawled out on the ground, everyone was doing just great.

Then came the rodeo.

None of the dudes and dudettes had ever been to a rodeo.

No problem. There was a PRCA rodeo in Athens that weekend.

I don't know if there has ever been a tailgate party at a rodeo before, but there was gonna be one this year.

I told them I would put some meat on the grill, fix some tortillas and beans, as well as salsa, if they would bring some kind of salad and drinks. We would meet at the pens and sorta caravan over to the rodeo early.

It was a done deal.

We found a tree out away from all the dust and horses, had a pretty good picnic. Then we went to the rodeo.

I did the best I could to explain each of the events as they happened.

I told them the bull riders and the bareback bronc riders were just cowboy trainees. Mainly because they hadn't won enough money to get into the real cowboy events and all they could afford was a rope, a bell or a suitcase handle. I also explained that the saddle bronc riders was good enough that they had been able to buy the saddle but not the horse or trailer it takes to compete as a full-fledged cowboy in the timed events.

I explained to them that barrel racing was a silly event, simply because "if I didn't have a horse that could outrun a barrel I wouldn't waste any feed on 'im."

I don't think they believed everything I told them, but we had a good time anyway.

Till the kid's calf scramble came up.

In this group, there were four boys between the ages of six and 10. I talked 'em into getting into the calf scramble. It didn't take much to get the boys convinced, but I had to outdo myself when it came to convincing their mamas that the calves didn't have horns and they wouldn't attack unless wounded.

The boys never even got close to the calves, but they had a good time trying.

The only one to get injured was the youngest of the bunch. When the announcer finally got the kids to quit chasing the calves and start to clear the arena, Jason turned to try and find his brother. When he did, he ran into one of the clowns that was helping with the scramble. Of course the clown was on his hands and knees and had been in the process of sneaking up on Jason. When Jason turned and ran into the clown,, the clown bellered and scared the living hell out of a boy who didn't have a clue as to where he was or what had just attacked him.

He broke and ran for anywhere, and mowed down another kid that was laughing at 'im. It was kinda like the domino effect. Within a matter of two seconds, there was seven to 20 kids laid out on the arena floor.

I guess each one thought one of the calves had been wounded and was attacking.

I was laughing pretty hard, not to be mean, but it was funny. All the kids walked out of the arena. There was one or two bumps, but no cuts or broken bones.

The clown stayed on the other side of the arena in order to avoid being attacked by a couple of mothers that was acting like wounded calves, and the boys were tickled they had got to be part of a rodeo.

Nope, it don't take a lot to entertain me.