No tellin’ how many good dogs he outlived, no matter how good your dog was, he’d once had a collie, a healer or gyp that did everything your dog does and more! The same for horses and pickup trucks, though the one he drove was a wreck. The best
I could tell, he didn’t have nothin’, but
I’ve never seen that affect his opinion on anything you mighta owned from a purebred bull to a bit! By the time he’d finished pontificatin’, you’d wind up suckin’ hind tit! Last night I was braggin’ on one of my dogs I’d sold at the top of the year to a herder who worked on Basabe’s ranch. They said my dog had no peer. It was seven miles of circuitous road from the lower field to the lane. They’d send my good collie to bring the sheep home and never had call to complain. He’d start ‘em out where the new highway sign warned “CAUTION: LIVESTOCK CROSSING AHEAD”, then herd ‘em north to the Conoco billboard, go right ‘til a homemade sign read “POLOMBO’S TOMATOES AND VEGETABLE STAND” where he’d turn toward to four-way stop. Platteville read east, so he’d go ‘til he spotted “DICK’S WELDING AND SHEET METAL SHOP,” take a left on Bromley then up past the barn that advertised “HAY BY THE BALE” ‘til at last he turned up the Willow Creek Road by the sign that said “RABBITS FOR SALE”.
At the third mailbox sayin’ “BASABE SHEEP” he’d fetch ‘em just like he’d been shown and drive that big bunch of scatter brained woolie up the lane, just him, all alone.
‘Top that!’ I thought, ‘You cranky ol’ coot!’
He said, “That’s mighty impressive indeed! Though I’m not surprised ‘cause my dog spent last year teachin’ all them sheep how to read!”
BAXTER BLACK, DVM, has been rhyming his way into the national spotlight and now stands as the best selling cowboy poet in the world. He has achieved notoriety as a syndicated columnist and radio commentator.