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One of these days, she’ll look back and remember how I “trained” the cat.
Hopefully, that will bring a grin.
She’ll remember Christmas trees, and presents and songs and poetry,
And Santa Claus. Whatever happened to him?
She’ll remember her first horse, her first riding lesson, of course,
And the first time she took a fall,
All of my train wrecks, how I gave those horses heck,
She’ll probably be able to name them all.
She’ll probably recall the Lazy Lee, and stories about Jerry and Julie,
And the cows we had to work.
But, she’ll probably forget Ol’ What’s-His-Name, the foreman that eventually came,
Because he was such a jerk.
She’ll look back on our place, a tear in her eye, a smile on her face,
For the Lazy Heart Cross Seven brand,
How we rode for it, what we sold for it,
How I scrimped and planned.
She’ll remember first year 4-H, and how she took her dog to State,
And how she lost her goat,
How she paid her dues, calving to Chris LeDoux,
And all the poems we wrote.
She’ll remember the rodeos, watching mom in the second go,
While she’s running her own.
I’ll be right here watching her letting her slack and setting her jerk
Even after the Lord calls me home.
She’ll pass along stories of our days of glory,
And how crazy we all were.
She’ll tell of cowboys and outfitting convoys,
And the adventures we gave her.
It’ll be a long ways before these are “good old days”,
But, eventually, they’ll end.
So we have to make memories, try to live our lives free,
So she has something to tell future generations.
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