Although I’m just a girl of sorts,
I well remember when,
Daddy placed me on a horse,
then stood back with a grin

He spoke some words I’ll not forget
no matter how I age,
‘bout bein’ a little wrangler;
his helper without wage

Ya see, I was the oldest,
an’ no boys would there be,
so Daddy made the best of it
an’ declared his sidekick─me.

I learned to herd the cattle,
swing a rope above my head,
an’ not to worry ‘bout the storm
or lightnin’ I might dread

He taught me how to buck bales
an’ how to lay a brand,
guess you could say in our world,
I was his best hand

We mended fence, pulled new calves
an’ fought some big wildfires,
me ridin’ there beside him
since that was his desire

He always called me Buddy,
an’ I know that he was proud
tho’ he never really said it
to anyone out loud

Poetry by Tamara Hillman - Copyright 2006
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