Old Pete was just a cowboy
that's the only trade he knew
But when it came retirin' time
he wanted somethin' new
He's tired a' cleanin' barns and corrals
and pitchin' hay to cows
That fixin' fence is ornery work
and there's a windmill broke right now.

Some of Pete's old buddies
were retired and livin' fine
They get this social security check
just like wages, right on time.
And they are free to come and go
and live just like they please
And Pete he thinks that's right for him
just livin' a life of ease.

No more brandin's, hot and dirty
no gettin' soaked at calvin' time
Won't have to fix no blasted fence
no more windmills needin' climbed.
But when the figurin' all gets done
he finds his funds to short
To live and browse like he's wantin' to
so he's needin' a job of sorts.

So old Pete heads into town        
to visit his old cronies        
And maybe scout around some
for a job to make some money.
Now, one of Pete's old friends,
livin' in a nursin' home,
Put him onto this here job,
the local chain store's hirin' some.
      
So old Pete, he hustles down there
in his rusty pickup truck
And when he gets inside there
he's never seen so much stuff
Now old Pete ain't  been to town much,
spends his time out on the ranch
Just gets to town for funerals
and an occasional weddin' dance.

He buys his grub at the country store
just a few miles from his home
And fuel and feed he has hauled out
no need for him ‘a goin'.
He's too busy on this place he's leasin'
to go traipsin' off to town
Has to work long hours every day,
keeps the bank from closin' him down.
           
So this here place is new to Pete
he ain't never been in before
And when he takes a look around
he can't believe this store.     
Then purty soon he finds a guy        
actin' like he owns the joint
And Pete explains he wants a job
figures to get right to the point.

This guy looks Pete up and down
kinda smirks at his old battered hat
Then he gives old Pete some papers
said, "Fill ‘em out and bring ‘em back".
Now old Pete thinks gettin' hired
means showin' up and shakin' hands
He don't know a thing about papers,
applications he don't understand.
      
So soon as he gets done in town
Pete takes those papers home
And sittin' at his kitchen hutch
starts fillin' lines in some.
Puttin' in his name was easy,
just a last and first is all
And then the address, that's a blank,
never had one  he can recall.

So Pete, he scratched his head some
then figured, well now, by jing,
He'd give hisself an address
that'd surely be the thing.
So Fortieth and Plumb it is,
sure sounds like a right good lick,
Forty mile from nowhere        
and plumb out in the sticks.
           
And then he sees this blank
just after the word "RACE"
So Pete just printed in there
"sold horse, couldn't stand the pace".
But one that really threw him,
got him all red around the face,
Was a box that's printed "SEX"
he's a bachelor, what's to say.

Now, Pete thinks they're gettin' nosy
askin' ‘bout his private time
But the irritations just a glimmer
till he ogles this next line.
They want to know his color
now, that's gutsy, just a mite,
Well, hands and face brown from sun
all the rest is milky white.
      
Now by this time Pete's all fed up
with this personal question thing
And he almost chucked the paper
but he'd try another line
Then this line there says, "EXPERIENCE"
but there was only a few short spaces
Not near ‘nough room to tell about
his wreck, broke his leg in three places.

So he just wrote "a plenty"        
and figured that would do it
No need to tell the things he'd done,     
they'd probably not believe it.
Now Pete's plumb sick of this whole thing
don't see what good it's doin'
Thinks maybe he's got it pretty good
right where his roots is growin'.

But he takes it back the very next day,
hands it to the supervisor
And the gent says, "Follow me sir"
then leads him to the rear.
And there's a woman, six feet tall,
hair frizzled, (might be on purpose),
Her face is long, like a Missouri mule
and  hands hang down where her knees is.

Her teeth are few, her ears are big,
hair grows right out'a her nose
Her knees are knobby below her skirt,
her feet like a Clydesdale's toes.
The man says, "Here, this is your boss
whatever she says just do that."
And then he turns and walks away,
leaves old Pete a' holdin' his hat.
      
Now, this gal looks at old Pete with a grin,
eyes his lanky frame up and down
Then smiles with a coy little squint of her eye,
moves up close with never a frown.  
"Hi ya, sweety, yer just what I need
to work in this here department     
And me and you are gonna be great
cause we'll work side by side, you'll like it."

By this time old Pete has swallered his tongue,
his heart's goin a hundred and ten,
His teeth are chatterin' like he's got a chill
and the hair on his head is on end.
Without a word he hits a run
taken strides about ten feet long
And without lookin' back for signs of pursuit
he heads for the door and was gone.

Now, Pete don't slow ‘till he's to his truck,
he climbs in that rig with a bound
He cranks ‘er up and slams it in gear
and throws gravel with the pedal down.
He's drivin' as fast as that old truck will go,
fenders a' flapin' in the wind
And he don't slow up till he's at the ranch,
and safe in his own house again.

Now, it took old Pete a week to quit shakin'
and get his life back on track
And he's cleanin' barns and fixin' fence,
and thinkin' he's lucky to be back.
It'll be a long time ‘fore he goes back to town
he's afraid that woman's still lookin'
And his greatest fear is that someday one,
just like her, will up and hook him.
Slim McNaught
Until next time.

Copyright Slim McNaught
All Rights Reserved
This site, in it's entirety by content and Design Copyright 2001-2004
Cowboys-n-Cowgirls.com
In addition, All individual works Carry Copyrights
Much of what you may find among these pages are the sole property
Of the Authors, Artists, and or thier agents
Posted here, by Permission
Please respect and honor all Works you find through out the internet They "Are" the Heart and Soul of another
Back     Home     Looking     Poetry Index    Next Author   The Saddle Archieves
OLD PETE
"The Saddle Rack"
Lines from The Leathertooler
Slim McNaught
Some fellers just don't have no luck with women, and some days it just don't pay to get too close.

OLD PETE
October / November  2004
The Saddle Archieves
Slim's Custom Leather
Bio