Lee Pitts

A friend asked to borrow my pickup to haul the family Christmas tree home and, being the kind man I am, I offered to drive the truck myself. (I didn’t trust my 25-year-old truck in his hands.)

My family talks funny. My mom and grandparents on her side of the family are all gone now, but I can still hear them using words like privy, lariat, pipsqueak, scuttlebutt and wieners.

If all the cars in the world were placed end to end ... they’d probably be behind a slow-moving cattle truck.

“Hello. Is this the vet clinic?” Buck wasn’t completely sure because the last time he’d called the veterinarian was when his 30-year-old mare was born.

One of the things a good cowman has to have, besides a good banker, is an early detection system for determining when an animal is sick.

My wonderful wife is the picture of perfect health, with only one known ailment: She suffers from what is known in the medical community as “white coat syndrome.”