Tales from the O-No Ranch | TheFencePost.com

Tales from the O-No Ranch

Mad Jack Hanks
Wellington, Colo.

I reckon that some things just get naturally recycled since time began. I know that the weeds always find their way back here to the O-NO Ranch every spring and summer. Man, I tell you what … I’ve got weeds this year like never before. I think that it’s because we went through so many years of drought and then I get this really nice 3 inches of rain in about 10 days a few weeks back and bingo! WEEDS!

A couple of weeks back, my daughter Sunni and granddaughter Kailee were out riding the ponies with friends of mine. We were riding on public lands just across the road from my place and ole Fred points out to me a prairie dog hole that has fresh droppins around it.

“Those cotton pickin’ prairie dogs are back again! I thought the plague would keep them away longer than this,” I barked. Recycling is takin’ place. It was only a few months back when the plague came through this country and wiped out every prairie dog for miles around. Now they are makin’ a comeback, much to my displeasure.

There are some folks, gentle readers, that believe in reincarnation. They believe that when you leave this earth you come back as someone else or something else. Usually, the folks that believe that almost always think that they were a knight or a princess or someone of royalty from hundreds of years ago. Nope, they couldn’t have been a janitor on the strip in Las Vegas or a share crop farmer during the depression, they have to have come from royalty.

Well, let me tell ya, if I get recycled after I cross over, I WANT TO COME BACK AS ME! I don’t want to come back as somebody I don’t even know. I figure with all I have learned from my past experiences, I just want to continue on as me.

Well, now I might want to make a few little changes like have all my hair come back and erase a few wrinkles here and there and maybe lose the saddlebags around the middle. That’s not asking too much, is it?

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As a sidebar, I went in this morning for my Monday morning swim at the cement pond. After I finished and had a shower, I was feelin’ really good, all pumped up and all. I just started to whistle. I like to whistle, I think it’s good for a person to whistle every now and then. I was whistling a John Denver tune when a feller stepped around the corner and replied, “I bet you folks from Colorado really enjoy John Denver’s songs.” He had a back east New Jersey accent. I quipped, “I’ve always liked John Denver’s songs even when I lived down in Texas.”

About that time a big strappin’ feller about 330 pounds or so plopped down on the bench next to me and went to drying off. It dawned on me the song I had been whistling might not have been the best selection for the men’s locker room. I pointed that out to the big guy that “Come Let Me Love You” was not appropriate for this particular setting. He “laffed” and said, “I didn’t catch that at first but yeah, that’s funny now that you mentioned it.” I gathered up my bag and in the deepest voice I could muster, “YOU MEN HAVE A GOOD DAY!”

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and I’ll c. ya.