Howdy, The Red Headed Cowboy and His Horse Named Fred - By Dan'l MclLhenny

Most folks called him Howdy this red headed feller 

Wore a red hat, red chaps and a pair of red boots too! 

Of course his horse was brown but almost red and Howdy 

Named him Fred… short for Fredrico because Fred 

Understood Spanish & English he was an equine Bi-lingual 

When folks greeted Howdy they said, “ howdy, Howdy” 

Which started to bug him for quite a long spell 

He’d say back to ‘em… yes, my name is Howdy, and… 

You don’t have to wear it out!” To which they muttered… 

 under their breath, “he’s a moody sort of cuss don’t- cha think?” 

He rode the river valleys along the rutts of wagon roads 

Way off in the mountains like a bonafide buckeroo would do 

He had a thing for whiskey but we won’t discuss that now 

Mostly, Howdy was a cowboy since he left the farm and plow 

He whistled and he sang some as he traveled with the boys 

Busy punchin’ cattle on the trail all the way from Texas 

Up to the High Wyoming ground livin’ by the credo… 

 Good - Cowpokes seldom ever fail  

Ol’ Howdy was a crack shot he had two eagle eyes and 

Two red handled forty fives holstered above his thighs 

At the campfire he sipped whiskey and said… 

 “May this brew never go outta style!” 

While his mostly toothless cowboys friends laughed... 

 and tried their best to smile 

This kind of life ain’t for everyone our bodies ache 

 when the ridin’s done baked to a crisp by the danged old Sun - 

 then we freeze beneath the stars but proudly show our scars 

 to the pretty ladies at the bars 

When the trail rides done yeah, thats big fun for everyone 

Until it's time to ride again with my ugly cowboy friends...  

And my trusty amigo Fred 

Let the cattle cries make music for the sunset skies ahead 

May I say thank-you Lord for the occasional perfumed feather bed 

Where I settle down as the man I’m truly meant to be with… 

 Annabelle Lee, whoopee! Whose a red head just like me! 

If ya gotta hoot, you ought to holler a little bit too 

When that pebble in your red boot feels like a boulders buggin’ you 

Never shoot an unarmed cowboy unless he cheats at playin’ cards 

Or steals your girl and whiskey away 

Then you kin wrestle him down on main street no need to be discrete 

Where a pair of red metallic spurs become a legend of the west... 

And it seems Howdy’s better than the rest!  

And it seems Howdy’s better than the rest! 

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