No cowboy life ever happens without a wreck or two. We’ve had our share with bulls and buck-offs and such. Physical wrecks all of them. Thank heavens bodies mend, even if only mostly.
Emotional wrecks we aren’t quite as familiar with although since leaving the prairie it just seems to be one emotional wreck after another.
I’m afraid parting with Gus hurts bad, that little pup who picked me 3 years ago. He’s been a good friend, a good help, if a little protective which I confess I kind of appreciated. I think I may have found him a working home. Either him or Pshaw, we’ll have to see which suits this lady best.
This time it is me that’s the wreck. I can hardly stand the thought of missing him.