Horses, Butterflies & Cows

Third in the draw, its time to get ready,
Still plenty of time Lena feels good and steady;
Turn some small circles get her head on straight,
Then lope three more rounds before heading to the gate;
With the help in place it’s time to go,
Entering the gate Lena’s walking real slow;
Help’s saying don’t cut the Brammer, Black Mott or Charolais cross,
Cause the last one to try it rode out with a loss;
Cut what waits, don’t get in a hurry,
They act a little spooked but now’s not the time to worry;
Trust your horse, Lena will carry you through,
Cause with all that training she knows what to do;
With the time line crossed, the clock’s a runnin,
The herd moves out and the Brammer comes a gunnin;
Too late to change, the cow’s been chosen,
The Brammer’s mesmerized, like a statue she’s frozen;
The sorrel mare controls the cow like a freshly whipped pup,
No chance to lose that one as Lena’s hooked up;
Head to head and toe to toe,
Across the pen and back they go;
The help yells quit as the Brammer turns away,
Yes, the red mott’s fresh let’s see if she’ll stay;
Again to the herd, a minute thirty on the clock,
Butterflies in your stomach feel just like a rock;
The red mott stays as the others go by,
Would rather cut her standing still, ‘stead of on the fly;
Lena drops down with that look in her eyes,
The cow can’t get by though she really tries;
Corner man says “5 seconds on the clock,”
Butterflies feel more like a hawk than a rock;
Press her to the left with the spur on your boot,
Now the cow’s standing still like her hooves have taken root;
Finally the buzzer signaling time is through,
Leaves thanking the help as the last thing to do;
Take a deep breath and listen for the score,
Good-bye butterflies, as the announcer calls out 74.

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