When I was five, my dad decided he would make a cowboy out of me.
He bought me the wildest, meanest, Shetland stud horse, you ever did see.
Fireball was this horse’s name,
Trying to kill me was his game.
He would throw me and I would crash into the ground, but I can recall,
There were times, that a cactus or mesquite would help break my fall.
Many times he would stop bucking and run off for parts unknown.
Sometimes, I would go with him if I had not already been thrown.
Many times, I would lay on the ground and want to give up the battle,
But my dad would pick me up and put me back in the saddle.
When saddling up, he would bite me but sometimes I would just stay put.
Not because I wanted to, but because he was usually standing on my foot.
We had to sell Fireball after a couple of years,
When Dad told me, I broke down in tears.
Dad said, "Do not cry son, you be a big boy".
But what Dad did not know, those were tears of joy!
I truly believe selling Fireball changed this cowboy’s fate,
I do not think old Fireball planned on me to make it to eight.
I remember it like it was yesterday and it was over 70 years ago!
I can’t make this up, this is a true story that I wanted you to know.
© 1984 Walt Perryman
This picture is not me, but could be!!!!
Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.