I had not visited Cowboy since he posted the Valentine’s Day kissy Marmaduke. I did today. I found the kind of interesting collection of news and information from around the world that he always puts together for us. How about a surgical device easy enough for layman to use to fish out an appendix on a muddy creek bank in the middle of nowhere? A beautiful video of horses to ease our pain. A little rodeo cowgirl to make us smile. A man saving his dog to remind us of our humanity. Then…Cowboy reins us in, brings us up short. He forces us to question our our lives and the way we live them.
He never lets us forget who we are when we look in the mirror. He’s not easy on us. He tells us of The Great American Tragedy. The wild mustangs of the West. He doesn’t tell a romantic story to make us feel good. He tells the truth. He gives us the ugly facts to support the creeping tragedy that he knows has been unfolding for a very long time with nobody to stop it. We are destroying the last vestige of ourselves and our history. And he wants to know what we’re gonna’ do about it.
This old print is my tribute to Cowboy wrapped in a question. I bought this print in its carved wooden frame at an old antiques store many years ago. The old man who ran the shop told me the picture was a famous one that Stetson used on its hat boxes in the early part of the last century. I have seen the print in other places that I don’t remember.
I leave it here for Cowboy to figure out.
I go to Cowboy’s blog for information, for inspiration, for comfort, and I go because I know the bunkhouse door is always open..a hot tin of coffee with no questions asked. You can’t beat that. If you don’t see him when you’re passing through, just push the door open and go on in. The coffee’s right there on the stove. You’ll see the tin cups on that shelf up to your left. Pour yourself a cup and go on out back. He’ll be there, probably shoeing a horse.
By the way. You’ll know it when you get there. The writing on the door says “One Cowboy’s Way”.