By I hauled the bay mare up to my brother’s place,
And left the foal behind.
Having her momma out of calling range
Sure speeds up the weaning time.
The mother cows are bawling
As we sort off the heifers and the steers.
Them cows can make a lot of noise,
But they never shed no tears.
We sure can’t afford to keep them,
So the calves all have to go,
And the bawling seems more mournful,
Than it did a year ago.
The little sorrel filly
Has settled in at home,
Born to be a cow horse,
Soon over the hills we’ll roam.
She’s fast, just like her momma,
There’s a promise in her stride.
So I have to cowboy up for a few more years,
I’ve got one more good horse to ride!
Reprinted from Rhymes & Damn Lies
by Mike Puhallo, 2006