By the time I knew him he
had seen his better days
and he'd gotten sorta cranky and was tricky in the ways
of a horse who'd seen it all and knew all a ranchers tricks
when it came to handlin' horses while avoidin' their swift kicks
The Jiggs I knew would come a runnin' for a flake of hay
and he'd run you over every time if you got in his way
An apple or a sugar cube could coax him through the gate
and when my uncle saddled him he'd just stand there and wait
But put a kid like me up in the saddle on that hoss
and he sure would come untracked just to show me who was boss
Jiggs would buck and bow his neck to see if I would stick
and turn around and try to bite and maybe throw a kick
My uncle got old Jiggs from a neighbor rancher's wife
and he never could have dreamt that horse would live such a long life
and outlive so many horses born since he had been acquired
and keep on livin' years and years since he had been retired
But back in younger days these two had covered lots of ground
when they both had fewer aches and their knees were firm and sound
and they brought the cattle in for the shippin' in the fall
after gatherin' em from manzanita thickets ten feet tall
They rode the brushy canyons of my uncle's foothill spread
and crossed the Fresno river where he gave ol' Jiggs his head
as he picked his way across between the rocks covered with moss
and then vaulted up the bank like a fancy jumpin' hoss
Almost forty years had passed since Jiggs first learned to walk
when my uncle took him packin' where majestic granite rock
forms Sierra peaks and valleys holding crystal clear blue lakes
where snow hangs on thru June and the mighty aspen quakes
My uncle thought it fittin' that his trusty aging steed
should graze his final pastures up where red fir drops its seed
and where grass is growing next to lakes kept full by icy streams
in a tranquil mountain setting that was worthy of his dreams
I was on that trip and Jiggs was packed with all our gear
and we had a line of horses with Jiggs bringin' up the rear
and we watched for that old horse to give us some kind of a sign
that he might be on his last legs near the end of his long line
But ten days later after many miles on dusty trails
and climbin' over passes watchin' other horses tails
Jiggs was still a goin' to the surprise of uncle Clyde
and I think three more years passed 'fore good old Jiggs then finally
died
He died back on the home ranch in a pasture 'neath a willow
where he lay down in the shade with the tall grass for a pillow
and he drifted off to sleep cooled by a gentle summer breeze
as the sun set on old Jiggs with twilight filtered through the trees
© 2008, Daniel Bybee
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
Daniel told us about the inspiration for his poem: My uncle
had many horses over the years, but the most memorable one was named
Jiggs. By the time I was old enough to help out on the ranch, Jiggs
was already old and ornery and spent most of his time down on my
uncle’s ranch outside of Fresno. My cousin and I were told to stay
away from him, but we saddled him up in the corral and both got on
and he commenced to try and buck us off. We both stayed on somehow.
One other time I was in the corral with Jiggs and he put his ears
back and came after me. I managed to get behind a big stack of fence
boards before he caught me. After that, I left him alone. Jiggs
lived to be over 40 years old and we even took him on one of our
high mountain pack trips a few years before he died. Many years
later, I heard stories from my aunt about how he was a good cow
horse back in his younger years. Last year those stories and my
memories of my experiences with Jiggs came together in this poem. I
hope you enjoy it.
We asked Daniel
why he writes Cowboy Poetry and why he thinks it is important, and he
commented:
I started writing cowboy
poetry in order to tell the stories of growing up working and playing
on my uncle’s cattle ranch in Coarsegold, California. I was lucky
enough grow up on a farm only a few miles from my uncle’s valley farm,
and he used to stop and pick me up on the way to his mountain ranch.
We would haul up a load of hay, unload it into the old barn, doctor
cows and calves, and ride around in the jeep feeding the cows and
shooting squirrels. Then we might saddle up the horses for a ride out
to check fences and reservoirs. I had so many memories of those
wonderful years and I always thought I would write them down some day.
After going to Elko for the first time in 2001, I learned how I could
tell my stories to other people. I wanted to record that portion of my
uncle’s life that he shared with me while I was growing up. He was
such an incredible man who lived life with such a passion that few
people ever experience. I want other people to be able to experience
through my poems the man I knew and the life he lived. My uncle, Clyde
Pitts, taught me the cowboy code through how he lived his life and I
am forever grateful to him for how I live my life today.
You can email Daniel Bybee:
danbybee@hotmail.com
