Persistance
by Baxter Black, DVM

Persistence is a two-sided coin. Charlie asked in town if anyone was needing a cowhand. The horseshoer in the cafe directed him out to Don's ranch.

Charlie found Don down at the hay barn and introduced himself, "I hear you might be lookin' for help."

"By gosh, son, ya showed up right on time, my shoulder's sore and givin' me trouble. I could sure use help feedin' calvin' heifers and ridin' the heavy bunch. You can ride Rancid, over there."

Charlie looked at a deep bay gelding with a gray muzzle lolling in a nearby pen. There was something about him that made Charlie ask, "Does he buck?"

Don winced imperceptibly, "Oh, he's got a playful streak. I broke him as a two-year-old. He was big then. Bucked me off more than once before I got him sold to a high school teacher in Rupert. He kept him for six days and then brought him back. Suggested I take him to the buckin' horse sale in Miles City.

"I chuckled at that. I figgered if I stayed at it and worked him easy he'd quit that buckin'. He's such a good horse to cover the country on. Big and stout and strong. He did try me, though. Rattled my teeth and hung me over a rail fence like wet laundry. He unseated me six times that first week I got him back. Then threw me into a beaver dam.

"So I just gave him to an outfitter in Mackay. He kept him for five years. Rode him twice, I think. But he lost his business and since he never paid me, he brought him back. First day I took him on a long circle clear up there by that stand of quakies," Don pointed to the foothills behind him, "He was a real gentleman. I relaxed thinkin' maybe he'd mellowed. Caught me off guard. Pitched me into the fork of a tree.

"I took after him with a vengence. I wore him out. He did pretty good after that but I had to watch him all the time. He'd still try and throw me off and sometimes he did but I figgered sooner or later he'd gentle down or give up."

"How old is he?" asked Charlie.

Don kinda drew a little circle in the dirt with the toe of his boot and looked over at the horse who seemed to be enjoying the conversation.

"Sixteen," he said.

There was a pregnant silence, then Charlie asked, "Your shoulder?"

"Yup," nodded Don.

Charlie studied Don a minute. "Who named him Rancid?" A pause.

"Everyone."

Youth of the Month - Calvin Peterson