The Rodeo Bull Named Wacko by J. Douglas Hinds

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Horses and Cows,

Come on in and grab a seat by the campfire. It’s a stressful world out there filled with traffic, pollution, and concerns about everything the human mind can imagine. So take a few minutes and relax, smell the smoke, ride the range, and enjoy the work (or more accurately “the play”) of cowboy poet J. Douglas Hinds and professional photographer Dennis Liddell. Editor, A Peek at the Peak, April 2008.

 

The Rodeo Bull Named Wacko

Photo by Dennis Liddell.

By J. Douglas Hinds

 

He drove up to the ranch house
In one of them foreign cars
Old and beat up lookin’
Seat full of mason jars

 

Lookin’ for work he said
Hopin’ we could take him on
Bill just motioned to the ranch house
Where Dave was mowin’ lawn

 

You better check with the boss Jack said
As he spat upon the ground
He kind of eyed all three of us
Before he turned around

 

Must of been there an hour
Before he reappeared
I think he’s down and out, I said
Bill said he acted weird

 

He walked out to the bunk house
And said he’d hired on
He introduced himself as Slim
His hair was long and blond

 

Photo by Dennis Liddell.

We introduced ourselves around
Not knowin’ what to think
He had a scar across his chin
Still showin’ mighty pink

 

Where’d you get that scar Jack said
As he motioned to a chair
I got it up in Cheyenne
You fellows been up there

 

Bill was there two years ago
Though he never stayed too long
We picked him up at the hospital
When all his cash was gone

 

Last time he ever rode a bull
Though he still knows how to ride
He sticks to ridin’ horses though
It’s easier on his hide

 

Well Slim just had to tell us
Why his face was all a mess
Though he didn’t have to open up
We were certain we could guess

 

Photo by Dennis Liddell.

Some Rodeo bull named Wacko
Just stepped right on his face
Three months fore he could swallow
Just now getting’ back his taste

 

I don’t mean to pry Dave said
What’s with the mason jars
Those held my medication he said
When I was seein’ all those stars

 

Some boot-leg doctor in Scottsdale
Prescribed a pint a day
And sure enough in just 6 months
The pain all went away

 

If you fellows can loan me a saddle
A Cheyenne doctor has mine
I’ve got a feelin I’ll fit right in
Cause now I’m doin’ fine

 

 


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Author: John Hinds

John Douglas Hinds, who was raised on a ranch, is the retired senior partner with J.D. Hinds Professional Painting LLC. As a licensed residential and commercial painting contractor, he has painted “thousands of homes and businesses” in the Valley over the past 33 years. Hinds is a resident of Cave Creek and a frequent contributor to The Peak.

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