Updated: May 3
In order to be a "cowboy" it is really much more than tight jeans or fancy hats. There is much more hard work than their is flashy belt buckles. Thats ok though, that is the way real cowboys like it. There's not an endless amount of resources when running a family ranch. You learn how to make do and you learn how to survive with what you have. I've come to idolize the cowboys of the west, not because of the fancy belt bucket or flashy boots. But because they do whatever they have to, they can fix anything, they are the Macgyvers of the west. And honestly they way they do things is often far better than those with endless resources. They're just just simply good at doing things right and doing them right the first time. If your with a Cowboy, don't worry - no matter the issue they will figure it out. After all there is more than one way to skin a cat.
Here are just a few job titles that most cowboys and cowgirls take on in their daily lives....
Marketer / Advertiser
Land Manager / Forester
Fred Harvey reminded us best why God created farmers and cowboys. God knew what he was doing - he made honesty trustworthy men that could get the job done. Those raised on a ranch can always do "a little bit of everything" - theres a reason, they simply had to and were darn proud of it.
So God Made A Farmer
And on the 8th day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, "I need a caretaker." So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the fields, milk cows again, eat supper and then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board." So God made a farmer.
"I need somebody with arms strong enough to rustle a calf and yet gentle enough to deliver his own grandchild. Somebody to call hogs, tame cantankerous machinery, come home hungry, have to wait lunch until his wife's done feeding visiting ladies and tell the ladies to be sure and come back real soon -- and mean it." So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt. And watch it die. Then dry his eyes and say, 'Maybe next year.' I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from a persimmon sprout, shoe a horse with a hunk of car tire, who can make harness out of haywire, feed sacks and shoe scraps. And who, planting time and harvest season, will finish his forty-hour week by Tuesday noon, then, pain'n from 'tractor back,' put in another seventy-two hours." So God made a farmer.
God had to have somebody willing to ride the ruts at double speed to get the hay in ahead of the rain clouds and yet stop in mid-field and race to help when he sees the first smoke from a neighbor's place. So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bails, yet gentle enough to tame lambs and wean pigs and tend the pink-combed pullets, who will stop his mower for an hour to splint the broken leg of a meadow lark. It had to be somebody who'd plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed and rake and disc and plow and plant and tie the fleece and strain the milk and replenish the self-feeder and finish a hard week's work with a five-mile drive to church.
"Somebody who'd bale a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh and then sigh, and then reply, with smiling eyes, when his son says he wants to spend his life 'doing what dad does.'" So God made a farmer.