My husband was a cowboy, a real cowboy. I have never seen anyone move more in sync with an animal, so calmly yet commanding, so fluidly, so beautifully. To watch him ride a horse was mesmerizing and inspiring. He told me that he knew when he was 3 or 4 years old that he wanted to be a cowboy. And his determination and perfectionism made him the best cowboy I have ever seen. I was proud of him. He made his dream a reality. He was living the life he had always wanted to live. And he excelled at what he did. Depending on the time of the year, he got up early most days and caught and saddled his horse. This was foreign to me. I had always caught my horse only if/when I had decided I was going to ride. Upon my questioning, he explained that most days, he was going to ride – that is what he did. A cowboy works cows horseback. And if your horse is saddled and waiting at the barn, all you have to do is mount up when you need to. Too many people, myself included, wait for the urgency of a situation and then end up hopping on a four-wheeler to get a cow in because there is no time to catch your horse. But, he was right. If you are going to be a cowboy, saddle your horse and be ready. I loved him for that. He was also a gentleman. He not only caught and saddled his horse, but also mine. I loved him for that too. And for years and years, he put me in his best saddle. I did not know it was his best saddle until a friend of his told me that after Jake had died. Being not even half the rider that Jake was, I feel pretty sheepish about that now. But I love him for it. He also kept track of me; actually, he kept track of everything – me, my horse, my saddle rigging, my reins, the dogs, the cattle, old wire on the ground we had to be careful of, the weather, wildlife tracks, etc. It not being a dream of mine to be a cowgirl since the age of 3 or 4, he sure made me into something a lot closer to one than I was ever going to be on my own. I loved him for that and I loved working cows with him. And when we were done riding for the day and unsaddling our horses in the barn, he would take me in his arms and kiss me so passionately that I ended up losing an earring on more than one occasion, never to be found again in the soft dirt of the barn floor. I still love him for that.
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