You Know You're A Stressed-Out Cowboy When:
You start talking to your dog in the front seat -- asking for advice.
Somebody mentions drinking from the bottle -- you think of Maalox.
You wake up at 3 a.m. and wonder if you have time to brew a cup of coffee before getting started.
You have an attack of road rage, between your house and the barn.
Your favorite horse starts to act like a horse with 20 days because you have sent enough mixed signals in the last 15 minutes to undue six years of training.
You sit in your favorite recliner for the first time in months, and watch TV for a couple of hours -- too tired to get up and turn it on.
Every calf you see sunning itself is immediately assumed to be dead.
You arrive at a social event and elect to sit in the driveway until the market report is over, even though you don't have any fats to market for 60 days.
You entertain thoughts of a total dispersion and doubling your herd size at the very same time.
Your wife suggests you take up chewing again, after persistently asking you to stop for 15 years prior to you finally quitting.
You take your wife's advice, buy a can of chew and find out you can't open the darn thing because you no longer have fingernails.
You put in a 40-hour week -- every day.
You can recall the morning when ol' "810" was born, but have to call your mother to find out when your anniversary is and how long you've been married.
You have the local renders phone number on speed dial, and they don't bother to ask for directions when you call.
Fill in the blank.
-- Troy Marshall
You start talking to your dog in the front seat -- asking for advice.
Somebody mentions drinking from the bottle -- you think of Maalox.
You wake up at 3 a.m. and wonder if you have time to brew a cup of coffee before getting started.
You have an attack of road rage, between your house and the barn.
Your favorite horse starts to act like a horse with 20 days because you have sent enough mixed signals in the last 15 minutes to undue six years of training.
You sit in your favorite recliner for the first time in months, and watch TV for a couple of hours -- too tired to get up and turn it on.
Every calf you see sunning itself is immediately assumed to be dead.
You arrive at a social event and elect to sit in the driveway until the market report is over, even though you don't have any fats to market for 60 days.
You entertain thoughts of a total dispersion and doubling your herd size at the very same time.
Your wife suggests you take up chewing again, after persistently asking you to stop for 15 years prior to you finally quitting.
You take your wife's advice, buy a can of chew and find out you can't open the darn thing because you no longer have fingernails.
You put in a 40-hour week -- every day.
You can recall the morning when ol' "810" was born, but have to call your mother to find out when your anniversary is and how long you've been married.
You have the local renders phone number on speed dial, and they don't bother to ask for directions when you call.
Fill in the blank.
-- Troy Marshall
