Tales from the O-NO Ranch 6-1-09 | TheFencePost.com
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Tales from the O-NO Ranch 6-1-09

Mad Jack Hanks
Wellington, Colo.

I have stated before, gentle readers, that writing this column each week is like writing a family letter. I feel like you folks are just part of my extended family. Here’s a little of what’s been going on with me these past few days.

I got a good case of the shingles and not the kind you put on your roof. You guys out there that have had the shingles in the past know how uncomfortable they can make you. I’m uncomfortable. Yet, I continue to ride the bike (motorcycle) and I plan on goin’ out dancin’ tomorrow night. I’ll just take an Ibuprofen and hope for the best. The shingles popped out on my left shoulder and down the left side of my chest and back. I had planned a trip to the old country (Texas) for a visit with my brother, sister, their families and other friends, but canceled out when I realized how tough these shingles can be. That left shoulder is where my seat belt shoulder strap would have to rub for a 13 hour drive. Not me!

Speaking of going dancin’, I received a really nice thank you card from Glenda over at Collbran, Colo. She sent me a nice little letter and thank you card for dancin’ with her mom and sisters at their annual Cattleman’s banquet where I was their guest speaker. They had lost their dad a few years back and their folks really liked to dance and their mom hadn’t danced in those years. I think we did the waltz together and apparently it really gave her a lift, and so the belated thank you note. Thanks Glenda, it was a nice touch and if I ever get over that way at supper time, I’ll take you up on your offer. That banquet was four years ago and I was pleasantly surprised to get the letter.

As I was headed home this morning from the T Bar Inn after coffee, I spotted an old graybeard standing on the side of the interstate with all his worldly possessions by his side. I had ol’ Clancy, my 100-pound German shepherd in the back of the truck and I pulled over to see if this feller might want to ride in the back with my dog. He looked harmless, plus I was armed and the dog is intimidating at best.

“Ya goin’ to Cheyenne?” he asked.

“Nope, I’m only goin’ about 10 miles up the road and if ya want to ride, ya gotta’ ride back there with the dog. I don’t think he’ll bite ya,” I quipped.

“Well, 10 miles is 10 miles,” he said as he carefully approached the back of my truck. I watched through the mirror as he carefully loaded his back pack and bedroll into the truck and then eased up into the bed. Clancy carefully smelled him all over and looked through the back window at me as if to say, “What’s the deal here anyway?” Graybeard settled down in the corner and Clancy sat in front of him and just stared at him eyeball to eyeball. He didn’t mean any harm he just wanted to be petted. Graybeard never offered to touch one hair on his body and he thanked me for the ride I wished him good luck. I helped him out a little and I felt better about the day ahead.

I trust your Memorial Day was to your liking and remember to check yer cinch on occasion and I’ll c. ya.


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