24/12/2022
A Cowpuncher's Night Before Christmas
By Ross Hecox
âTwas the night before Christmas.
All the ponies had been fed.
I was tryinâ to choke down
A few beans before bed.
But my belly was churninâ.
It just wouldnât sit still.
It was gonna be a long night,
I sure nuff could tell.
âCause in my string of horses
There was one called Saint Nick.
And thinking âbout ridinâ him
Sometimes made me sick.
Olâ Flipper had come in
With a front leg a dragginâ
Last fall during shippinâ
When we was out on the wagon.
Saint Nick was an extra
In the outfitâs remuda.
And every time you got on him
Heâd give a gift to ya.
That gift was a bronc ride,
And I donât mean no hoppinâ.
He was sin covered lightninâ
That would get your ears to poppinâ.
Saint Nick liked to buck,
But that wasnât all.
Heâd kick ya, and bite ya
And was sure bad to paw.
But the boss cut him to me.
Thatâs just part of the deal.
Flipper got turned out
For the winter to heal.
I thought it kinda funny
That it was Saint Nickâs turn to go
With me checkinâ heifers
The next day in the snow.
So I lay in my bedroll
With the fireplace a crackinâ.
Had terrible nightmares
âBout my poor neck a snappinâ.
I woke up at midnight,
Again at two-thirty.
I decided to saddle Saint Nick
This time a little early
I thought, Iâll set him to soak
With the cinches pulled tight.
Come daybreak, thatâll help
Take out some of the fight.
Well, I got him saddled
Out there in the dark.
It was kinda like hand-feedinâ
Breadcrumbs to a shark.
I came back inside
To wash the blood off my head,
And to see how much of my
White shirt had turned red.
I lay down again.
Maybe now I could rest.
He was still gonna try me,
But maybe not with his best.
Iâd just closed my eyes
When I heard such a racket.
I stumbled out of bed,
Put on my denim jacket.
As I walked to the horse pens
The moon lit the stage,
And the icicles shone bright
On the high-desert sage.
Out in the big pen
On a fresh carpet of white
My eyes took in
The most amazing, wild sight.
Saint Nick was a-makinâ
A wild, crooked leap
With a potbellied feller
Sittinâ up there in the seat.
He throwed him his head
With one hand in the air.
Saint Nick touched the ground
And growled like a bear.
Iâll tell ya in my life, boys,
Iâve sure seen some rides,
But I thought that critter
Would buck out of his hide.
Heâd jump sideways
While he chewed on a foot.
The red, fuzzy coat
Popped out chimney soot.
Heâd show you his belly,
Then stand on his head.
I noticed the fat fellerâs
Cheeks turninâ red.
Saint Nick finally winded
And throwed his head up.
Started lickinâ his lips
Like an old, gentle pup.
The rider stepped down
To hand me the reins.
I noticed in his mouth
A broken candy cane.
Thatâs when it hit me.
My mind started to click.
Iâd just watched Saint Nick
Ride olâ Saint Nick.
Then I noticed his team,
And his little red sleigh.
His reindeer were hobbled,
Eatinâ some of my hay.
He said, âMerry Christmas.
Hope that present will do.
I knocked some of the rough off
That olâ pony for you.â
Then he buttoned his coat
And limped on away.
Unhobbled his reindeer,
And climbed into his sleigh.
I heard him exclaim
As he headed back North,
âI ainât never seen nothinâ
Buck like that olâ horse!â
