1. What did you learn?
I reckon I learned that puttin’ down a steer takes more than just firing some .45 between his eyes. I learned that my Pa don’t like to ask for help, he just wants it.
2. How well did you learn it?
Suppose I learned that I ain’t cut out for puttin’ down steers. Or if I’m gonna, then I shouldn’t get my heart involved by callin’ them steers names like Hornsy McHornsonrider. And I suppose I shouldn’t give him a rich history and imagine up all the names of the cows he mounted like Lou Anne and Big Jean and Marsha Brady and Cindy Brady and Carol Brady and Alice and such. And I guess I shouldn’t tell none of the other ranch hands–no matter how much they sympathize with me while passing around a bottle under the stars, talking about what tickles our souls.
3. So what now? What do you see as the next steps in your learning?
From here on out I’d say it’s best to probably just keep things to myself and practice having thoughts and not sharing ‘em and always making sure to anticipate my Pa’s needs. I should probably learn some good stories about men with freckles kickin’ the shit outta people who cross them.
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