Another Kind of Rodeo Champ

There is a breed o’gal
That often is maligned
By unthinking people,
and some just plain unkind.

We see her all the time
At rodeos far and wide.
She’s usually real pretty
And by some cowboy’s side.

She wears her wrangler jeans
The way they were designed,
Cut to fit ……
No sag in the behind!

She’s rodeo’s greatest fan,
Loyal to the core.
And though she works from 9 to 5,
She’ll tell you that’s a bore!

She’d rather be at a rodeo
Than in some discotheque.
She cheers at a flashy ride
She cries at the terrible wreck.

She’s the Florence Nightingale
Of our old rodeo game,
Looking after cowboys
That’s busted up and lame.

She takes them in and feeds them,
Provides a place to stay
Till they’re healthy once again,
Then sends them on their way.

She’s filled many a gas tank,
Helped fellers pay their fees.
For being a cowboy’s friend
She makes no apologies.

Sometimes a grateful hand
Leaves a trophy buckle there,
His way of saying thanks
For the help and the loving care.

So, if she wears their buckles,
That sure don’t make her no tramp,
She darned sure ain’t no buckle bunny,
Just another kind of rodeo champ.

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