RIDING DRAG

RIDING DRAG
Part of the Mare Herd at the 4DH Ranch in Oklahoma. For More Works by Debra Coppinger Hill Click Image.

Friday, May 31, 2013

RIDING DRAG / DOING THE RIGHT THING

May 28, 2013

From the laundry room I heard my daughter say “Mom…Mom…I need to talk to you.” I hollered that I was doing the wash. She peaked her head in the door and I immediately knew I was about to be conned. “I had to bring a dog home Mom and I swear to you if you don’t like her I will take her back to the shelter and put her down myself. But I want you to hear her story and I want you to give her one week…just one week.”

Her job with the Vet had already garnered us a 7 toed tom cat and two Manx female cats. They went to the shelter once a month to do the put-downs. It is not a fun job, but a sometimes necessary one. Dara handled it well though you could always tell by her sad face what day they had gone. “Tell me the story first and it had better be a good one” I said.

 “Feona belonged to an 86 year old lady who had a heart attack. When the paramedics got there they locked her in the kitchen and took her owner away. No one found her for five days. Her owner passed away and her family came and that is when they found her. They all live out of state and no one wanted her so they surrendered her to the shelter. They have had her for four months and kept putting off having her put-down because she is so sweet. Mom, I had to take her. She looked at me like she knew me and she wouldn’t leave my side. So please, please, please let me keep her. I will take care of all of her expenses. Please.” The look on my daughter’s face told me that she had found that animal we all find sooner or later in our life; that one creature that belongs to us heart and soul.

“Ok…” deep breath “let’s see her.” I said. She opened the door and into the laundry room walked the biggest dog I had ever seen in my life! Feona, all 135 pounds of her, came directly at me, sat down and put her head beneath my hand and looked at me with her large, expressive eyes. “She’s a Mastiff Mom.” I shook my head and sighed. I was beaten and I knew it; but I reserved my right to say when and if she had to go. That was five years ago.

Feona lived with us, let my grandson #1, Derrick, grow up hugging her and napping on her and spent hours laying at my feet while I wrote. She moved with Dara when she got married and became the guardian of grandson #2, Nathanial, when he was born. She gave nothing but love and was loved in return. She only had one problem and that was they no one truly knew how old she was. Tell-tale signs started show and it was decided by our Vet that she had major bone degeneration.

 For the last year Dara did what she could to care for Feona. Medications worked for awhile but it became evident that they were no longer holding pain at bay. She could no longer raise her large frame from her bed without great effort and pain. And we, those who loved her could no longer make her suffer just because we were selfish and wanted her to stay in our lives.

My daughter is the strongest person I know. She waited until we were gone and took Feona to the Vet for one last visit to make sure there was nothing to be done to stop her pain. When she was told that Feona would only get worse she did the thing we all knew would have to be done and let go. She stayed by her kindred spirit’s side. She petted her and hugged her and whispered to her as her beloved friend slipped away. She did this alone. She did it though a part of her was slipping away too. She did it because it was the right thing to do.

I like to think I have raised good, strong, responsible kids who have become compassionate, loving, responsible adults. It is at moments like this that I know I have only been their keeper. That God blessed us with these incredible beings who love so deeply that they would rather tear out their own hearts than to see a creature or a family member, suffer.  We will miss you Feona; but we will miss that young girl who talked us into keeping you more.   

 
 
Feona Marie
How could I say no to that face?
She loved to ride in the truck.
 
 
Keeping a watchful eye on the kids while they played.
 

Ever tolerant of our silliness she allowed us to dress her up as a fairy princess for a pet costume contest. She won in her division and at her prize of a basket of treats before we made it home.
 
 

Grandson #1 Hoss loved hugging Feona. She was wonderful with all children.
 
 

Feona did get a little jealous when the snauzer puppy got a new bed.
 

But after a nap in it she let Chy have her new bed.
 

This is her chair but she was good about sharing.
 
 


She thought she was a lap-dog but shared her chair with PawPaw.
 

Sharing with Dara, Chy and Rufus.
At 135 pounds she was still intimidated by Rufus who weighs in at 9 pounds.
 

This is her happy face!
 
 
Here's Feona barely able to contain herself, celebrating her delight
at Dara and Ryan's engagement.
 




'Just one fry...pleeeeease...'
 


Wearing fluffy hair-clips and a big smile.
 
 
Telling Dara about her day.
 

Trick-or-treating with Hoss, Ryan and Dara. Since she was a bull-mastiff that is a tiny bull-rider on her back. Dara is dressed as a sonogram machine...that's a three-d sonogram image of grandson #2 ND, also known as Beeker. Feona was his gaurdian.
 

 


Two Cowgirls just hanging out after chores.
 

Kindred Spirits, Feona and Dara.
Friends like these come once in a lifetime.
 
 
Thank you Dara for bringing Feona into our lives.
 
And Thank you Feona, for allowing us to share your life.
 
We'll see you in the other side!
 
 
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For more information on Debra Coppinger Hill go to AlwaysCowboy.com.

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RIDING DRAG with DEBRA COPPINGER HILL is featured each week at ALWAYS COWBOY where Debra is a Resident Western Poet. Join her and her Cowboy Friends for Cowboy Poetry, News and  Events. http://alwayscowboy.net/debra_coppinger_hill_poetry.html

Thursday, May 30, 2013

RIDING DRAG / FIRST ROBIN OF SPRING

 May 14, 2013

 My grandmother always said seeing the first Robin of spring was good luck as their song summons spring. I shared this with my friend Ruth Anne who had never heard this little piece of superstitious lore. Being an open-minded individual, she took this to heart and throughout the dreary gray months of January and February, March and April she looked forward to the first robin and his song. I too looked for the first robin and so was taken a little aback when Ruth Anne called the second week of May with a question.

 “If the first robin of spring that you see is lying on your front porch and the cat is ripping his throat out, is that a bad sign?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, “it doesn’t look good.”  

I had intended to write a parody of the old song “When the Red, Red Robin Comes Bob, Bob Bobbin’ Along”; but I’ve reconsidered; mostly because I couldn’t come up with one that wasn’t totally gruesome.

However, I will share this with you. Winter has been harsh across the nation. We have survived it rather well out here on the plains. I attribute it to our self-reliant culture as Ranchers and Farmers. It has been a long winter and everyone is looking for signs that spring is truly headed our way. Ruth Anne told me that she was very tired of winter weather and asked if one robin means spring is coming, would over a hundred of them at once mean that it is coming very soon?

My answer (with apologies to F.P. Church)…Yes Ruth Anne there is a spring. It exists as surely as Ranchers and Farmers. It exists through our belief that the coming spring will make for better crops and livestock. It exists because we will it to. It springs eternal in every cabin-fever infected soul.  And it lives in the heart of every robin, as long as we control our cats.
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*For more information on Debra Coppinger Hill go to AlwaysCowboy.com.
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RIDING DRAG with DEBRA COPPINGER HILL is featured each week at ALWAYS COWBOY where Debra is a Resident Western Poet. Join her and her Cowboy Friends for Cowboy Poetry, News & Events. http://alwayscowboy.net/debra_coppinger_hill_poetry.html

RIDING DRAG / TOP HAND

May 07, 2013

He was the best friend and boss my husband ever had. A true mentor and a faithful Christian who never asked his men to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. When I had cancer he made sure my husband had jobs he could do here at home. He also made sure my husband was home for events for our kids and other family members. Jerry Lewis, you leave a big hole in our lives that will be hard to fill; but we know we will see you down the trail.

TOP HAND
In his heart he is a Cowboy,
riding for the brand,
Doing what comes naturally,
being a Top Hand.
In his mind’s eye lies the prairie,
racing with the wind,
Where a great big world lays waiting,
just around the band.
With waters pure as crystal,
 and air just as clear,
He often stops to wonder,
just what he’s doing here.
Green pastures is what he longs for,
and a good horse by his side,
Saddled up and ready,
for the long, hard ride.
So, he gives up everything to go,
where no one’s gone before;
He smiles as if to say good-bye,
and silently slips out the door.
There will be no fancy speeches,
as he rides into the sun;
It’s just some things are never quite finished,
and his work has just begun.
He’s headed for the High Lonesome,
where he’ll once more take a stand…
This Cowboy’s heart is headed Home,
to ride for Heaven’s brand.
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*For more information on Debra Coppinger Hill go to the poetry section at AlwaysCowboy.com
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RIDING DRAG with DEBRA COPPINGER HILL is featured each week at ALWAYS COWBOY where Debra is a Resident Western Poet. Join her and her Cowboy Friends for Cowboy Poetry, News & Events. http://alwayscowboy.net/debra_coppinger_hill_poetry.html

RIDING DRAG / GOING WITH THE FLOW

 April 30, 2019

“The best laid plans of mice and Ranch Wives are soon deep in mud” is my new motto. I had plans for today; early to rise, hot tea and some oatmeal, pay some bills online, go pick up the baskets I bought, stop at the bank and post office, come home, dash off my column about my day, feed and then spend the evening with my best friend Jimi. I should have known better than to make plans.

The rain and wind woke me up at 3:00 a.m. I let in the dogs, checked the new kittens and watched as the wind blew my new garden plants all over the yard. Back in bed I lay thinking about what I was going to have to add to my plans to get this back on track. Once up I ate, got dressed and got the bills taken care of and went to get in the truck to head out for the baskets. From the driveway I could see that two of the cows and their calves had lifted a panel and were presently occupied making the hay storage lot their new home. One had her head pushed though the fence to the mini’s corral making a hole big enough for the small horses to get out through. It’s another rubber boot day.

Sigh…I know I am going to have to wade out there and move the panels, clear the cows out, fix the fence and then do the feeding. Will I still get to sit and gossip and drink tea with my friend like we planned? No, there will be no sitting. Once she shows up she will get her rubber boots and throw in with me and get things done. Long ago we learned to go with the flow. There is no reason to get upset because things do not go as planned. We will laugh about our muddy clothes and wet hair.

I stand and watch the rain as it keeps coming down. It is presently flowing across the yard like a river.  Looks like it is time for a new motto; “When plans go astray and you’re feeling low, pull up your boots and go with the flow.”
 
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*For more information on Debra Coppinger Hill go to the poetry section at AlwaysCowboy.com
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RIDING DRAG with DEBRA COPPINGER HILL is featured each week at ALWAYS COWBOY where Debra is a Resident Western Poet. Join her and her Cowboy Friends for Cowboy Poetry, News & Events. http://alwayscowboy.net/debra_coppinger_hill_poetry.html

RIDING DRAG / POLITICALLY CORRECT

April 23, 2019
 
I’ve seen a lot of tee-shirts lately,
That say, “Get a Cowboy Attitude”,
But the fellows who were wearing them,
Appeared to be plain rude.
They think that being a Cowboy,
Is a swagger in your walk,
And a dip in your lip,
And a drawl when you talk.
To them it’s a high-dollar horse,
And a trailer with sleeper and tack,
And a sixty thousand dollar pick-up,
With vanity plates on the back.
They think a hundred dollar shirt,
And a Stetson with a fancy band,
Is all it takes to make,
The measure of a man.
But being a Cowboy,
Ain’t necessarily what you ride,
It’s what you believe,
It’s who you are inside.
It’s looking past the problems,
To further down the road,
It’s standing up for others,
And living by The Code.
It’s giving more than your share,
It’ doing what is right,
It’s knowing how to appreciate things,
By taste, or feel or sight.
It’s knowing that it’s Not Necessary,
To be Politically Correct,
That either you do, or you don’t,
Deserve your ounce of respect.
It’s knowing the definition of Freedom,
The Responsibility that is brings,
It’s Heart and Soul and Strength and Grit,
And even more that just those things…
It’s wearing what is practical,
And even if you’re money poor,
It you really are a Cowboy,
You’re rich in something more.
Because being a Cowboy,
Isn’t something that you learn,
It’s putting your shoulder to it,
It’s the one thing that you EARN.
So, when you see a fellow,
Wearing his “cowboy attitude”,
You can know that he’s a ‘wanna-be’,
Or maybe just a dude.
 
As for the Real Cowboy?
Well, you’ll know him by the look in his eyes,
And he’ll be the one wearing plain clothes,
Because he don’t have to advertise.
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*For more information on Debra Coppinger Hill go to the poetry section at AlwaysCowboy.com

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RIDING DRAG with DEBRA COPPINGER HILL is featured each week at ALWAYS COWBOY where Debra is a Resident Western Poet. Join her and her Cowboy Friends for Cowboy Poetry, News & Events. http://alwayscowboy.net/debra_coppinger_hill_poetry.html

RIDING DRAG / KEEPING IT SHARP

April 16, 2013

We sat out on the porch after supper and while he sharpened his pocket knife we watched and listened. Over the years we saw him sharpen so many knives that he wore the whet-stone in two. Still he sharpened, using each half down to a sliver. When he turned 80 I bought him a new stone. He used it for four years and when he left on his journey to Heaven, I picked it up from beside his chair and brought it home. I use it often, making sure I follow his advice to keep my knife sharp and at the ready.

Every woman in my family carries a pocket knife. We were brought up to keep it where we could use it. I have used mine for chores around then farm, for opening CD packages, picking stickers from fingers and getting a colt out of a tangle of honeysuckle vine. Each time I pull it out and open the blade I think of my Grandfather and the day he gave me my first knife. Each time I sharpen the one I own now I think of my Father; it was his and Mother gave it to me.

I look around my house and see many things my family has passed down to me I feel a connection to each piece and am happy they cared enough to place it in my care. The connection is family history for the most part. Everything comes with a story. Years ago I was given an old notebook with little stories in it that my grandmother had written telling where certain family heirlooms came from and what they meant to her. She encouraged me to keep it up and to pass it along when the time came to share my own history with the next generation. I agreed and think I have done a pretty good job. It long ago out-grew the notebook and I added one of my own.

While flipping through the pages it became obvious that I have kept up the history of old books, antique furniture and photographs, but the history of the knives was lacking. Perhaps we never kept track because it is such a personal object. You either understand or you don’t. Pocket knives connect us to those who give them to us. They remind us of places we have been, jobs we have done and people who have taught us. Tonight I will get out the notebook and paste in a picture of my knife and tell the story about how it belonged to my Dad and how I learned to keep it sharp and ready to use from my Grandpa. There is more, but I will have to go get another notebook for all those stories.


*For more information on Debra Coppinger Hill go to the poetry section at AlwaysCowboy.com

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RIDING DRAG with DEBRA COPPINGER HILL is featured each week at ALWAYS COWBOY where Debra is a Resident Western Poet. Join her and her Cowboy Friends for Cowboy Poetry, News & Events. http://alwayscowboy.net/debra_coppinger_hill_poetry.html