Buster

My little sister's only job
Was herding the milk cows
When they were turned on open range
As prairie law allows.
One day when she was lolling on
The bare back of her horse,
She fell and couldn't get back up.
She was too short of course.
My sis was only nine years old
And quite small for her age.
Having to walk a far piece home
Filled her with honest rage.

My brother found a horse for sale,
Half-pony, Sister's size.
He thought he'd buy it for her as
A nice birthday surprise.
The owner pulled no punches, said
The horse had thrown him twice.
My brother bought him anyway,
A bargain at the price.
My brothers knew an ornery horse
Was no kind of a joke,
But they had yet to see the mount
That just could not be broke.

They put a bit in Buster's mouth,
(That was his given name)
And all the while they put it in,
He stood there as if lame.
And then they tried the saddle.Wow!
That horse just came alive.
He kicked and whirled and bucked and twirled.
Each brother took a dive.
They knew they had to tame him well
To give him to our sister,
But every time they tried to ride,
That bronc became a twister.

They put him in the big corral
As safest place to stay
And think about his orneriness
Until another day.
About that time my sister came
And found him standing there,
A-munching hay and grinning too,
Without a single care.
She knew at once he was for her
And climbed upon his back.
He kept on chewing, paid no heed,
As if she was a sack.

My brothers stood with goggling eyes
A-gaping at the pair.
She dug in heels and Buster ran,
And left them standing there.
From that day on, my sister rode
Her small horse everywhere.
She rode him slow, she rode him fast,
He didn't seem to care.
She had to ride him bareback.He
Could not abide a saddle.
If he saw one coming towards him,
He'd quietly skedaddle.

When watching cows was boring, she
Did headstands on his back.
He stood still so she wouldn't fall
And give her head a crack.
He bore her nonsense patiently
And wouldn't move a muscle,
But when the cows began to stray,
That little horse could hustle.
She took him to the county fair
And entered in a race.
No other horse of his small size
Could match his winning pace.
They took the prize and my sister
Was too modest to brag
To all the other riders who
Had called her mount a nag.

It was haying time and Daddy
Took on some extra hands.
With brawn, brains didn't matter much.
A rancher understands.
One fellow started boasting of
The broncos he had ridden.
Bragging around my brothers should
Have been a thing forbidden.
It didn't take them long to brand
That young cowpoke a phony.
They hatched a plan to get him
Upon that half-horse pony.

If a man bragged of horse savvy,
He'd better know his beans.
They'd all been breaking broncos since
Before they hit their teens.
That evening when Sis brought the cows,
Buster was so mellow,
My brothers knew it was the time
To trick that boasting fellow.
They asked their prey if he would like
To ride this little horse,
That seemed so calm and gentle and
He took the bait or course.

My sis got off and he got on,
Or such was his intention..
Buster remembered all the traits
Those lads forgot to mention.
He gave one buck and the cowpoke
Was hanging from his mane.
When he was almost shaken off
The horse came down again.
Then Buster noticed the barn door
Was open just a skin.
He was wider than the opening
But still he wanted in.

He made a mad dash forward, just
A-heading for that crack.
He made it through, the buckaroo
Was skinned right off his back.
The fellow was a sorry sight
A lying in that muck.
He must have thought the world was done
Or else lightening had struck.
Those rascals stood there laughing at
This gent so mortified;
Then feeling sorry complimented
Him on his fine ride.

My guilty brothers pitched in then,
Helping to rub him down,
Fired up the Ford and gave that
Humbled man a ride to town.

By: Joyce 3/24/04