Cowgirl Sass & Savvy

Through a ranch wife’s eyes

by Julie Carter

I pulled into the post office today and parked just to my right was the very epitome of the vehicle you might envision for the “rancher gone to town.”

There sat a flatbed ranch pickup loaded to the gills. The back of the bed was heavy with a stack of mineral blocks, a big bale of hay and a few sacks of horse feed. Squeezed to the front were a water jug, a cooler, an unidentifiable plastic box and two curious dogs who kept watching the post office door.

The headache rack was neatly organized with everything a man might need while away from the house -- a handyman jack locked to the frame, a couple of catch ropes tied up to the rack, chains, a come-a-long and assorted tie strings for tying gates shut, mufflers up or a calf down.

Now this version of a ranch pickup was newer than your average rusted beat up feed pickup that comes to town. His wife has a job in town so in theory, he can now afford an upgrade -- in pickups, not in a wife. You might be a rancher’s wife if your job in town is considered “ranch subsidy.”

Meanwhile back at the ranch, you might be a rancher’s wife if you know how to change the flat on your pickup but can’t because the spare is in use on the flatbed pickup.

You might be a rancher’s wife if directions to your house include words like miles, cattle guards, gravel road and “last.” The word “last” can precede many things such as house, hill, left turn, mailbox or cedar tree by a large rock.

You might be a rancher’s wife if your stock tank doubles as a swimming pool, the storage shed is a barn, and you buy antiques because they match the rest of your furniture.

A ranch wife’s job in town often provides other advantages to the relationship besides financial improvement. The in-the-corral working relationship, of which was rocky at best, is now non-existent because of the aforementioned job in town.  The neighbors seven miles away no longer hear the yelling and cussing and the dog finally quit hiding under the barn about a month after she went to work.

You might be a rancher’s wife if duct tape is always on your list, the weekly paper comes a week late and the veterinarian, feed company and parts house is on speed dial.

A rancher’s wife will always have a shopping list that includes three sizes of engine filters, tires, chains, spark plugs and shotgun shells.  And the best one, “get me a part that looks just like this one here,” as he hands her something wrapped in a shop rag - a greasy diesel smelling odd-shaped object even he can’t even name. “And make sure it’s for the right year model.”

There is much comfort in seeing those ranch pickups in town from time to time. You have to know that there is still life across the cattle guard somewhere and that as long as the wife can keep a good job in town, it will continue.

Julie can be reached for comment at jcarternm@gmail.com.