To What Do I Owe This Pleasure?

As per usual we were at it again today. Our victim this time was a yearling bull that Jessie has named Mango Tango. He just happens to have foot rot in a pasture with no pens. Our only option being to rope him, we embark on our journey. Kelly leaves first at a high lope on a young horse. It is seven miles to the pasture and he figures by the time he gets there, the buck will be out of him. Jessie and I load up our horses, the beef bull, a late calver and a salt block and head out a little bit later. Halfway we run into Kelly and a tired Hooch, so we stop and pick up the dog and leave Kelly on his merry way. After taking care of the beef cows, we head up to the next pasture full of yearling bucking bulls. Once again, I choose to ride a broke horse, so I am the resident roper. I head out through the bush going full bore, and Kelly and Jessie stay back. The chase gets quite heated and Jessie's horse is getting to be a bit much, so Kelly decides it would be best if she went back to the trailer. She, by the way, has the medicine bags tied on her saddle. Meantime, I dislodge myself from the bush and find the bull out in the open again. He heads for some scrub brush and I am in hot pursuit. I get a rope on him when he turns around to hook me. Now, I am not close to the trailer. I can't get to the cell phone in my pocket, so I'm screaming at the top of my lungs for Kelly to hurry up. He grabs the vaccine gun and LA and kicks old yeller into a lope. Within three strides Kelly is bucked off. I can see this all happening, so I hang on to the bull assuming Kelly will get up and get back on. Well, when I see Jessie climb out of the truck and standing over him, I toss the rope and head back to the truck as fast as I can. I was really genuinely worried. Really I was. I get over there and he is trying to get up and swears he just got the wind knocked out of him. After a little discussion about what to do next, I took his rope and headed out again while he put his saddle on Jessie's horse. We searched high and low through the bush for this bull. After Kelly says forget it, he walks out of the bush in front of us. Kelly hands me the medicine and takes his rope and gets him roped around the horns. I jump off and grab my rope and dally up to choke him down. We finally get him treated and on his way grasping for air himself. A job completed.

As we are riding back, I asked Kelly if Jessie was scared when she saw him on the ground. He said, "No, she just walked over and said, "Daddy, should I call 9-1-1."" Now that's our baby.

Kelly said if he had only known he was going to get bucked off this much lately, he would have kept riding bulls. At least he would be getting paid for it.

So that wraps up another day in the life of an Armstrong. I promise I do not make this stuff up. As Kelly likes to say, "We are chasing the dream and living the nightmare."


Based on daily activities around here, I wrote this:


Dear God,

I hope this letter makes it through your Pearly Gates
Cause I don't know how much more I can really take

You see that prayer you answered
'Bout how I want to live

Well, God I've changed my mind
This cowgirl life I'd give

To the lowest bidder who first walks through this door
This cowgirl life is killin' me
I hurt right to the core.

Stretch marks, calluses and wrinkles aren't all they're cracked up to be
I dare not even mention that bruise from my ankle to my knee
From where that bay mare bucked me off for the branding crew to see.

Today, I roped a yearling bull and as I got my dally
I saw my husband get piled up off a bronc you'd swear was Cool Alley.

I dropped my rope and hit a lope back to where he lay.
Our little girl was standing over him asking, "Daddy, are you okay?"

Lord, the reason I'm sending you my letter of resignation
I do believe it is this ex-cowgirl's obligation

You see God, when I rode up and saw my husband's neck not broke
All that I could worry 'bout was that yearling.
He was wearing my brand new rope.