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PROFESSOR BOB
By Katie Maddox
Out there
in the western lands you’ll find a man of great repute.
He runs a
thing called Cowboy School; he’s tall of hat and boot.
He takes
on dudes and dudettes green, and teaches them to ride,
To rope
some, and work cattle, too; he’s always at their side.
He knows
just how to phrase a thing so you can comprehend
And lets
you learn at your own pace to reach that better end.
At Cowboy
School the rule of safety first is number one,
And
number two is just behind, and that’s to have some fun!
His
patient ways are legendary; he’s never out of time,
And if
you need to see a thing again, well, that’s just fine.
He’ll
teach you how to sit a horse and how to use your aids.
He’ll
help you learn to help your horse, and doesn’t give bad
grades!
This
professor of cowboy-ology, his name it is Bob King.
A skilled
and sorta bashful guy, his praises I must sing.
For he
has hung in there with me when I would ‘bout lose hope
And
helped me start to see the light when in the dark I’d grope.
There is
no telling where I’d be if not for this good man.
He’s
helped me when I doubted if I could, to know: I can!
This
journey of the horse we’re on will never reach an end
But I’ll
continue traveling with the help of Bob, my friend.
My ponies
mean the world to me and they deserve the best.
But I’m
the only one they’ve got, so I’ll keep up the quest
To learn
and strive to be as good with them as I can be.
So thank
you, Bob, my friend and dean of cowboyology.
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