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Baxter Black

Baxter Black is a cowboy poet, author, vaquero philosophizer, left-handed roper and former large animal veterinarian.

LATEST

It’s fall on the cow outfit.

Time to get out the WD-40 and grease up the handles on the squeeze chute. Maybe find the three or four syringes that work, buy some new gaskets and barrels along with a box of needles.

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This is my wife. She does the books.
I do the important stuff,
Like mend the fence and check the cows.
She makes sure the income’s enough

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Talk about takin’ a beating.

I stood on the porch at Dale’s horse farm and soaked up the view. It was deep springtime in west Tennessee. The grass was so green it hurt your eyes.

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It’s funny how the world goes around. Francisco and I were checking cows, making a big circle early in the morning to beat the heat. It’s peaceful out there.

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Let’s put in a good word for the feedlot cowboy. That group of fellers who meet every mornin’ early at the horse barn, saddle up, get their instructions and ride off down the alley.

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It was a fairly nice day for Cut Bank in early April. A little breeze blowin’ off the reservation, the sun about the color of skimmed milk and the creek startin’ to show the runoff.

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