by Baxter Black, DVM
Cowboy Christmas Carol
This is the story of Tiny Slim Crachett, a genuine reprobate
Who squandered his money and wasted his love until it was almost too late.
He was just your typical cowboy, honest, brave and sincere
And he lay on his bunk one Christmas Eve night belching up nachos and beer
When a vision appeared at the foot of his bed. He stared at the apparition,
“Must be that microwave pizza I ate,” he blinked and shifted position.
“I ain’t no pizza you commonbred fool! Your brain’s as dull as your knife.
I am the ghost of Christmas past, and cowboy...This is your life!”
The scruffy old ghost looked down at the cowboy, “I’m here for a couple of things;
To find some reason to salvage your soul and, in doin’ so, earn me my wings.
“I’ve jotted some notes from the big tally book regarding your skipping on bail.
It says that your mother posted the bond. Is it true that she went to jail?”
“Well,” said the cowboy, “it was just for a year. I had to move in with my aunt!
But I got her a job when she made parole pullin’ hides at the rendering plant.”
“Yer worse than I thought! It’s a hopeless case and me, with my wings on the line.
I’ve checked through yer records for somethin worthwhile. There’s really not much I can find.
“You rattle around in your sister’s ol’ truck with no visible means of support
If sorry and worthless came bottled in pints you’d be good for a quart!
“You gypo some cows and ride a few colts, do day work if all else fails.
Shoot pool and drink beer, rope three days a week, trade chronics at all of the sales
“Your past is a trip through the cat box of life, a sorid collection of wrecks.
You’ve broke enough hearts to frighten DeBakey and written so many bad checks
“Were they laid on the ground in a line end to end they’d reach further than you could point!
Though time is a teacher, you’ve failed the grade. I can’t see a thing that you’ve loint
“But what the heck, it’s Christmas, A time of goodwill so I’m willin’ to skip the above
If we can find a single good deed you’ve done that shows kindness and love.”
“Humm...kindness and love...?” thought Tiny Slim Crachett, his mind beginning to race,
“Once a rumor got started that Mother’s old farm was covered with toxic waste.
“For the sake of my mom, I rallied the press. To a man they took up her cause!
Greenpeace rowed up and camped on the lawn, the feminists all burned their bras!
“I handcuffed myself to the Frigidaire! And went on a hunger strike!
But alas we failed. She was forced to sell at less than I would have liked.
“Thank goodness I’d just got my real estate license ‘cause the place brought near ‘43’
Though it cost the ol’ lady twenty’two thou for commission and realtor’s fee.
“So there’s my good deed. As simple as that you can count on me in a pinch.
Our problem is solved, I’m home free and clear and your wings are a lead pipe cinch!
“So, let’s drink a toast to Mom and the angels, and you, though you’re a late bloomer,
And hope they never find out it was me who started that ugly rumor!”
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