Tag: Ranch life

Dually..

theycallmebetty13 Comments

My son brought him home one day while I was at work. Which coincidentally seemed to be where I was during most large events or life changes that revolved around our family.

He was black and tan, no bigger than a handful, full of energy and completely against what I thought my son was worthy of at the time. His name was Dually. He was a kelpie mix, a mistake from a breeding that shouldn’t have happened. He was cute as hell, full of energy and I wanted nothing to do with him.

You see Jake already had a dog. Jack. Jack came to us in a similar fashion (as in I was at work and had no say). After a year or so, Jack just kind of fell off the boy’s radar and Jack more or less became my dog. Now here we were again, a puppy, the dog of his dreams and I just knew with a stubborn, stingy old man heart that I would be taking care of another damn dog in a year. Cynical yes, but with cynicism comes truth. Little did I know how right and wrong I would be all at the same time.

Dually turned out to be smart as hell! You could teach him anything with only a few tries or corrections. He not only got it, but he never forgot it. The two of them (Jake and Dually) were inseparable. Where ever Jake was Dually was not far behind. He learned to work cattle quickly and went to every roping with jake, happily riding shot gun or inside the trailer. At rodeo’s if I was looking for my son, I’d just walk down the alleyways belting out his recall whistle. My son to this day has no idea how many times that dog narc’d him and his buddies out! One time after not getting an answer on Jakes phone and realizing the locater had been turned off, I whistled down an alleyway to see Dually’s little head pop out from under a stock trailer. Walking over quietly I peered into the trailer to see him and all his friends huddled around a heater, telling lies and laughing. Now I am no moron, of course they were hiding and drinking beer, but all I could think of was it could be much worse. When I was his age, it definitely was, so I simply chalked it up to memories they would never forget and kept a close watch.

Jake went off to college the next year. He came back a few weekends here and there but over time the trips became fewer and fewer. Dually was depressed, moping around the house and ranch. I had grown to really like him a lot. It was such a hard year, Jacy was dying, and the house was inundated with people all the time. The pressure to be everything to everyone was mounting and most days I felt as though I was going to explode. Even with writing this blog, detailing every experience, I was pushing down so much hard emotion. Days were long and the nights were longer. I always tried my best to put on a good face or when called out for my appearance proclaimed I was simply tired. Truth; I was alone inside.

One day I loaded dually up and took him to the beach. He was so happy! He ran and played, we hiked and it was then I knew, my son was losing his dog.

Dually slept on the bed next to me, he got baths, his teeth brushed, treats and lots of exercise. He went with me everywhere, and I mean everywhere. To quote the world famous Forrest Gump; we were like peas and carrots!! Ha ha!

The coolest thing about this dog and believe me there were many really cool things about this dog was his ability to sense things. I had sleep apnea at the time. If I had a night where I quit breathing. Dually would jump on my chest and wake me! He would then stand over me until I recognized him, kiss me once on the face, go to the foot of the bed, curl up and go back to sleep. At first I didn’t know what he was doing. I put it together after realizing the only times he did it, I had a severe headache when he woke me up. A sign I had been oxygen deprived for some time. He was my very special friend.

Even though it was him and I all the time, when Jake came home he never flinched in covering that boy with love. His faithfulness never wavered. Jake would always be “his” boy. It was amazing.

Sitting on the park bench I kept staring at the picture of my dog lying still on the pavement with the caption; He dead. At first I thought he was joking, that dually was actually sleeping out front in some weird contorted body position. I knew the truth by staring at the pic, but couldn’t grasp it. I called Parker and when I finally reached him through his choking tear filled pleas, Parker proclaimed it wasn’t a joke. Dually was dead.

Somehow that morning, Dually had escaped from the backyard. Parker realized he was gone and found him out in front of the house. Before he could get to him, while rounding the corner some asshole in a green Chevy truck hit my dog, full force, and dead center running him over with both the front and back of the truck. I know this because Parker saw him do it, saw the truck bounce into the air and the bastard never let off the gas.

Parker watched him die out in the middle of the street. Parker pulled him from the street, dragging Dually to our front porch. Covered in Duallys blood he tried calling me several times, because he didn’t know what to do. Where was I? Helping, always helping, doing my job, not home with my family where I should have been. Not able to answer the emergency call from my panicked, scared and heartbroken 14 year old son who had just seen something he shouldn’t have seen and was believing it was his fault. Yeah at work we stopped the structure fire that morning, we saved the house; we did our jobs. Here I was miles away and had just lost the one thing that had saved me, saved Jake from going crazy as we watched my wife, his mother die over the last several years. Who was going to save us now..

So I sat and cried.

A police officer came over and asked if I was ok. Was there anything he could do to help? I told him no, there wasn’t, I had just gotten word my dog was killed. He looked at me the way most would. With kindness and understanding, but also with that look. You know the “it’s just a dog” look. How could he know, how would he have known what this dog had done for me, for our family and now like everything else in my life that I grew to love he was dead, gone forever! Is this my destiny? I get it, he is a dog, but fuck! Is everything I love supposed to die? I am I not supposed to love anything at all? Am I fucking jinxed?? I mean whats next? This woman I am seeing; is being with me a death sentence for her as well??? Jesus H FUCKING Christ!!!!!!!!

I spent several minutes on that bench, trying to process, fighting the fight or flight urge to get out of there, wondering how I could escape. Then like I have done so many times before, I swallowed hard, stood up, and shook it off pushing every emotion I had down as hard as I could so as to not show weakness. I walked over to rehab, grabbed up my crew and we went back inside for overhaul relief.

Coming home I pulled up front. There he was, my best friend, my partner in crime, lying there on the concrete. He was still, stiff, and flies were making there way around his crushed skull and missing teeth. There was blood in the street, blood on the concrete. I cried so damn hard. It was painful. I didn’t know what to do. Parker and I hugged, I told him it wasn’t his fault and we would all be fine. I called Jake, I don’t remember that conversation and I am glad I don’t. When I think about that call all I feel is pain. Lots and lots of pain. That dog had saved him right in the middle of his mother dying. Dually was a gift from his mother against my wishes. I would find out much later it was because she simply wanted him to be loved unconditionally after she was gone. Pain, lots of pain.

I took the backhoe and dug a hole for him by his roping horse buddy Twoey. We had lost Twoey to a freak accident earlier the year before. I spent an hour carefully digging that hole. Something that probably should have taken only twenty minutes. It was clean, perfectly shaped and just the right depth. I laid him gently in the bottom of it and something strange happened to me.

Laying down next him inside that hole, I thanked him for everything he did for myself and Jake, I cried some more. He should have been off to the side watching me dig like always. He wasn’t supposed to be dead! It took me twenty years to love another dog after the death of Bear my first dog. Dually was it! What the fuck! I don’t know how long I was down there, but I heard a soft sweet voice coming from the edge. It was Lyn’s, my girlfriend. She came over right after work, she knew I was in a bad place.

Calmly, quietly she reached out her hand for me to come out of the hole. I told her I couldn’t, I couldn’t leave him, he never left my side and I wasn’t there for him when he needed me. Gently she reached out again, took my hand and asked; what can I do?

I came out of the hole. Hugged her, sobbed on her shoulder, crying like a child. I just couldn’t do it, there is no way I can do it, I mumbled over and over again. Lyn’s asked me what it was I couldn’t do.

Bury him. I just can’t put the dirt on top of him, I just can’t say goodbye. Especially like that, as if he was nothing.

Lynnsie grabbed my face, looked me right in the eye and said something I will never forget.

Maybe his time here was done. He came and did what he was meant to do. He cared for you and Jake, he brought you both exactly what you needed and now it’s time for him to go. Now go be the man I know you to be and finish what you started. He’ll always be with you.

The first bucket load was hard, the second a little less so, and before long I was grading the finish.

I sat for a while, looking over the pond with him. Feeling lonelier than ever. Wondering how one human being could hate another human being that he had never met more. Hatred is a powerful thing. Even now, writing this, I have no forgiveness for the fucker who took my friend from me.

I thought a lot about Dually in the days before finding myself lying in a cold hallway awaiting my turn. Wondering if someone would play Van Halen for me once we were inside.  If this went wrong, would I see him again, would I see everyone or anyone at all? Would I wake up and be even more heartbroken. I had my family, I had my closest friends and now I had Lyn’s, but I didn’t have my four legged buddy who could brighten up the roughest of days with nothing more than his presence. It was selfish but it was sadness drawn from love.

April 25, 2019 a mere five days later.

It all begins….

7 Habits of a grateful Rodeo kid

theycallmebetty4 Comments

 

parker-rodeo

 

I read an article today on being a grateful athlete in todays world.

The article was called; 7 Habits of a grateful athlete. It was authored by Brian Smith and can be found at www.athletesinaction.org

As I read through this article I found it refreshingly mirrored some of the very qualities we have been teaching our children. I then sat back and pondered what the 7 habits of a grateful rodeo kid would be? Using my own beliefs and the beliefs of many of my fellow rodeo parents, I came up with my own spin on the topic. My list holds a few similarities but also a few sport specific beliefs that many parents such as myself and my wife uphold on a daily basis.

Before we start though lets have a refresher for those who are unfamiliar with Rodeo and its concept.

So what exactly is rodeo?

Rodeo

The American English word “rodeo” is taken directly from Spanish rodeo ([roˈðe.o]), which roughly translates into English as “round up

Rodeo is a competitive sport that arose out of the working practices of cattle herding in Spain, Mexico, and later Central America, the United States, Canada, South America, Australia and New Zealand. It was based on the skills required of the working vaqueros and later, cowboys, in what today is the western United States, western Canada, and northern Mexico. Today it is a sporting event that involves horses and other livestock, designed to test the skill and speed of the cowboys and cowgirls. American style professional rodeos generally comprise the following events: tie-down roping, team roping, steer wrestling, saddle bronc riding, bareback bronc riding, bull riding and barrel racing. The events are divided into two basic categories: the rough stock events and the timed events. Depending on sanctioning organization and region, other events such as breakaway roping, goat tying, or pole bending may also be a part of some rodeos.

Many rodeo events were based on the tasks required by cattle ranching. The working cowboy developed skills to fit the needs of the terrain and climate of the American west, and there were many regional variations. The skills required to manage cattle and horses date back to the Spanish traditions of the vaquero.

Early rodeo-like affairs of the 1820s and 1830s were informal events in the western United States and northern Mexico with cowboys and vaqueros testing their work skills against one another.[9][10] Following the American Civil War, rodeo competitions emerged, with the first held in Cheyenne, Wyoming in 1872.[10] Prescott, Arizona claimed the distinction of holding the first professional rodeo, as it charged admission and awarded trophies in 1888.[11] Between 1890 and 1910, rodeos became public entertainment, sometimes combined Wild West shows featuring individuals such as Buffalo Bill Cody, Annie Oakley, and other charismatic stars.[10] By 1910, several major rodeos were established in western North America, including the Calgary Stampede, the Pendleton Round-Up, and the Cheyenne Frontier Days.

Rodeo-type events also became popular for a time in the big cities of the Eastern United States, with large venues such as Madison Square Garden playing a part in popularizing them for new crowds. There was no standardization of events for a rodeo competition until 1929, when associations began forming.

In the 1970s, rodeo saw unprecedented growth. Contestants referred to as “the new breed” brought rodeo increasing media attention. These contestants were young, often from an urban background, and chose rodeo for its athletic rewards. By 1985, one third of PRCA members had a college education and one half of the competitors had never worked on a cattle ranch.[12] Today, some professional rodeos are staged in large, air-conditioned arenas; offer large purses, and are often telecast. Many other professional rodeos are held outside, under the same conditions of heat, cold, dust or mud as were the original events.

~Wikipedia~

My wife and I have always preached being grateful as an adult and I believe that comes from a tempered or aged wisdom which allows adults to see what the youthful eye cannot. For when we are young it is very easy to become self-centered; forgetting the where, why and how of it all. Believing there is only one person in the universe that matters and that person is yourself. Parents often times inadvertently help with this self-absorption. Creating often times a very self-centered child by constantly praising their failures, awarding them for mediocre performances while never allowing them to work hard after recovering from the sting of defeat. These parents will purchase the newest greatest next everything including horses at the drop of a hat without any consideration the equipment they have is fine and the horse may not be the problem, but the child themselves. As a parent, in my opinion constantly bowing to a child whenever things don’t go their way is a set course for disaster! This often leads to a rodeo athlete who doesn’t understand just how lucky they are to be where they are, doing what they are doing, all why relying on a partner who speaks no English, knows nothing of what the game plan is other than a learned skill and has no way to say afterwards; Hey dude that wasn’t me this time it was all you! Hence ungratefulness and emotional meltdowns ensue.

I will constantly tell a child to smile while leaving the arena, no matter the outcome of a run! A simple reminder that this moment you are in was the luckiest, best thing you could have done today! Who else gets to do these amazing things on horseback in front of a cheering crowd? Who else but you and your closest friends? You have already beaten the odds by even being here! Smile! Smile big! You practiced and this time it didn’t work out, but next time it will! Just remain grateful and keep working hard.

I tell my children no matter how poorly you may have done, get up, knock the dust off and smile! People always remember the kid who gave it their all with a smile on their face! You can be mad at yourself, mad at the run, hell even mad at your horse because yes, even though I always preach look at yourself first before being angry at the horse, horses have bad days too! But take your time, wait until you are out of the arena, away from everyone else before you let any evil out of the jar!! Take a few minutes, compose yourself and remember you participated and did something most people only dream about. Hell most parents envy you a little because we can no longer compete! So you did something most people don’t get to do and your parents secretly envy you? Yeah I’d say that is pretty freaking cool!

One day coming out of the cutting pen my son reminded me of just how important my own words had become by throwing them right back into my face. I had worked hard during the winter on getting my horse just right. I strolled slowly into the herd as confident as I had ever been. I knew what cattle I wanted, my horse was supple and relaxed, Hell as far as I was concerned they should have already written the check out to me! After pulling my first cow out for a clean cut, I dropped my hand, sat back, turned out my toes and completely relaxed. This was going to be a kick ass run. In the end it was an; I got my ass kicked run. Nothing and I mean nothing went right after the second or third jump and I ended up schooling my mare. Instead of winning the round, I walked out with a zero.

As I passed through the gate, angry as hell, dejected and wanting to punch something (I am a little competitive) my son said; Great job dad! Smile! Who else gets to go out and do what you just did!

The son teaching the father. I smiled because I was in fact grateful.

With that little story here are my 7 habits of a grateful Rodeo kid

  1. Always thankful to God. We get up each morning and from the minute we pull our boots on we should be counting the many blessings put before us. Riding rough stock, training and riding horses, learning to rope, steer wrestle, goat tie and chute dog, it all takes time and skill. Thank God each and every day for the gift of life, the ability to thrive for everything you have achieved or will achieve. Thank God for the ability to fail! For failures are what eventually leads to improvement and a solid winning attitude.
  2. See’s the run in their head. You have practiced it, you have done it a million times the right way at home. Enjoy the very moment coming before you by closing your eyes and seeing yourself completing an amazing run, rope a steer perfectly, or wrestle a steer to the ground with ease. Riding bulls or Broncs? Who is your favorite rider, picture yourself making the very same ride your hero has, using the very same technique and effort! Enjoy this moment and use the power of your mind to see the perfection locked inside.
  3. Helps someone every single chance they get. Rodeo is a giant family and somewhere, someday you might need help in return. Always sharing knowledge you have gained, what you’ve seen while comparing notes you have taken. A truly grateful rodeo athlete knows that by helping others you are raising the competitive bar and that makes for a better rodeo all the way around. Be the first to congratulate another competitor when they have done well, always have an encouraging word, share a smile, a pat on the back, a high five! Your support will be returned tenfold, I promise!
  4. Always remains humble. Rodeo athletes who come across as entitled just don’t get it. They aren’t thankful, grateful and their attitude can bring about resentment and hate. Remain humble, honest and true to the values your parents gave you. Honesty, good sportsmanship, empathy and desire to be the best (best partner, contestant, coach, friend etc.) Buckles are great, money is awesome but those things should never define who YOU are. Remember you are only as good as your last run.
  5. Listens, listens, listens. You are never too good to take advice. The learning process never ends and someday when you are older you will hopefully feel the desire to pass everything you learned to another, whether it be your own children or clients. Remember to treat others the way you expect to be treated and that sometimes means to listen more and talk less..
  6. Treats ALL animals as if they were their own! You cannot compete without livestock! Don’t treat your horses, cattle and goats like a piece of machinery to be fueled, worked and thrown in a garage never to be seen until the next rodeo. Be grateful for their existence and abilities. Care for them like they were family because in some cases if you are really lucky that is exactly what they become. I have seen many of the meanest bucking bulls in the arena act like little puppies loving on their human for some ear scratching outside the arena! These animals truly love their jobs when treated right and in the end there is no greater bond than a grateful child and their horse.
  7. Continually thanking everyone that helped you along the way. Your parents, grandparents and even in some cases your brothers and sisters, they spent countless hours getting you where you needed to be when you needed to be there. Trainers, horses, cattle, ropes, saddles, tack, everything you need mom, dad and even sponsors did their best to make it happen. Nothing says you are a grateful human being like showing gratitude for the sacrifices these people all made so that you could ride into an arena, good, bad or otherwise and ride out with a smile on your face.

There you have it! How I feel our children should approach this great American sport. I know my children hear this all the time. It starts from the minute I remind them to remove their hats during the national anthem and continues until the moment they are asleep in the truck during our long ride home.

Our children should dream big! Shoot for the stars! But at the end of the day where ever they end up, these days here rodeoing with friends will be some of the best, most memorable days of their lives. Why not help by building a solid foundation that will lead them out into this world with a grateful attitude? It can only bring them success in life.

Let’s go, lets show, lets rodeo!!!