Climbing up on the Old Cowboy at Arizona Cowboy College

“You’re not climbing on top of me, cowboy.”

This morning after breakfast at Arizona Cowboy College, Rocco went around the room and assigned everyone a horse. This was a big deal. Like finding out who was going with whom to the prom. I was last.

“I think there’s only one horse for you,” Rocco said, sizing me up. “Viejo.”

Well this was news indeed because everyone at Cowboy College knew that Viejo Vaquero was Rocco’s horse. In a way I felt like Rocco was saying I could sleep with his wife.

I grabbed a halter and went into the pasture where Viejo was grazing and walked slowly up to him, approaching him from the left shoulder the way Rocco had taught me, trying to reassure both the horse and myself that everything was just fine. I certainly didn’t believe it and I doubt very much that Viejo did either, but he went along with things and allowed me to lead him back to the stables where I groomed and saddled him.

Viejo is a large horse; probably the largest on the ranch, which meant it wasn’t easy getting in the saddle. For anyone who had trouble getting on their mount, there was a two-step stool by the corral you could use, but everyone knew using that was as good as admitting defeat. So I made sure my saddle was cinched properly and threw myself up like John Wayne getting ready to head up the cavalry. Viejo danced around a bit while I got situated and Rocco watched the two of us like a man watching his young son attempt to back the family car out of the driveway for the first time, half amused, half nervous someone was going to get hurt.

As for me, I just kept reminding myself that Viejo was a coward and I was in control. Total control. Just like that young boy steering his father’s prized Beemer down the street for the first time, no problem at all.