23. Cowboy Up

Well, I reckon you've never met a real cowboy before.

That's because it's a hard life and not many greenhorns get through it. Those who do, the real hard gringos, they know enough not to talk. Sound carries far on the plains, and you never know when some hombre is waiting to bushwhack you. Letting him know that you're coming is about as smart as putting tits on a bull.

Never trust a cowboy who talks too much, the real ones, we talk with our eyes and with grunts, if at all.

Cowboys don't need people, just their steers, a good horse, and a reliable gun.

They say that you can take a cowboy out of the badlands, but you can't take the badlands out of the cowboy. I figger it's God's own truth. Sometimes I feel that I will just burst if I don't get to shout even a little "yeehaw!" or slap leather with some young buck. A day without blood is like a day without sunshine for this here man's man.

And I've been having a devil of a time with this Tita Meldy and her "truth and beauty" chicanery. It's always about good manners and being proper with her, and I don't cotton to that sort of pansy talk. I'm not from that mountain, daggumit.

I swear I could just take this here six gun and shoot that cityslicker.