Tales from the O-NO Ranch | TheFencePost.com
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Tales from the O-NO Ranch

by Mad Jack Hanks
Wellington, Colo.

While eating breakfast this morning and observing the “telly”, I noticed the story was on sports. I watched as a prominent golfer missed his putt, so he causally tossed his putter into the nearby drink.

Gentle readers, I don’t know how much that putter cost because I am not a golfer, but I do know that it must have been a considerable amount. Do we think that maybe the man in question here thought he could make the crowd believe that it was, in fact, the putter that caused him to miss?

Let’s face it, the guy was spoiled. He may have never learned how to lose and accept that you can’t always be at your very best every moment of every day. Just yesterday, Julie (the dear lady that helped me get my new computer up and running after many problems) and I were havin’ coffee at the local burger joint with a couple of other guys. She had my computer in her car and we were going to come out to the house and get it up and running.

As we got up to leave we heard tires squealing and saw a fancy sports car come roaring (and I do mean roaring) out of the drive-thru and whip into a parking place in front. It was a little unsettling for me to see someone with so little concern for others’ safety.

He jumped out of his fancy sports car and headed to the door and it was obvious that he was enraged. I confronted him with a simple question. “What are you … some kind of a lunatic?” I didn’t say it in exactly those words, as I was a little hot under the collar with his cavalier attitude.

He began to curse as loudly as he could, using every profane word in the book and some that weren’t. It appears that he pulled up to the pickup window with the top down on his (as he put it, his SIXTY-FIVE-THOUSAND DOLLAR car) and they had the sprinklers running to water the grass. Oh, and guess what? He got a wittle wata on his new shiny car and he was going inside to raise the roof about the treatment he had just received while waiting for his order.

Julie, with a big smile on her face asked, “Didn’t you see the sprinklers were on as you pulled through”?

“Yeah, I did but …” He continued to throw the F word around as he jerked the door open to go in.

Julie replied, “Well, duuuhhhh?” He went inside and we left shakin’ our heads. I think he was just a little bit spoiled. He needed attention really bad and when he was attacked by the mean ole sprinklers, he came unglued.

I’ve seen, on occasion, some cowboys go to whackin’ their horses over the head with their rope when they missed their loop as if it was the hoss that tossed the rope. Maybe for the moment that type of behavior makes a person feel better. I have to tell ya, it sure makes ’em look ugly to me. There are none of us that are perfect and we never will be, but we can sure shoot for almost perfection if we stop to consider the results of our premeditations.

I had a cowboy that rode his colt through and over a barbed wire fence on one occasion because he was so busy beating that young hoss over the head. He had the colt so confused he just wanted to escape. They turned a flip and both survived with a minimum of injury but it was heartbreaking to watch. The pony was his own personal horse and not the ranch’s. He was fully aware that he had drawn the disgust of myself and the other cowboys.

Well, I reckon I’ve done enough preachin’ for one column. I do hope ya’ll had a wonderful Mother’s Day. Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, lay behind the log and keep yer powder dry and I’ll c. ya.


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