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Show Well, the critter, he went for the cowboy, Just as Sooner shook out his long rope. It looked like a head-on collision As they both broke into a lope. Well, the beast, he lunged for the cowboy, So close his rank breath he could feel. But he missed, and got stomped by the stud horse, As the dog locked on a hairy heel. Well, a great cloud of dust rose above them, There on that dark, moonless night. There was the gruntin' and groanin' of combat. It proved a most terrible fight. When the sun arose the next morning, The world got its first morbid view. The ground was fresh ploughed all around them, The trees were uprooted too. But there in the midst of the carnage Was something that might be called good. For the Devil was tied with a hard twist To the last standing cottonwood. Well, Sooner had shaved off his mustache. He'd knocked out his long yellow fangs. He'd cut off his claws with a horse rasp And he'd cropped off his hair and combed bangs. He was dehorned and earmarked and dewlapped, Had a fresh burned brand on his rump. His tail was docked off at his fetlocks, With Sooner's signature carved on his hump. When there's howlin' at night in Cow Canyon, Don't wonder, don't worry nor fear. It's just the old Devil protestin', 'Bout the way he turned into a steer. V-^£ Fin Bayles Cowboy Poetry From Utah |