"Daddy Sang Bass"

 My whole life I looked up to hardworking cowboys since I was kid . I admired how they could do almost anything with enough hard work. However in this world only one person  has earned my respect and trust since the day of my birth. That man is my Father. I have collected some interview material pertaining to who I have chosen to write my blog about. With the turn of the knob  from the back door I knew my father was home. Like I was once again a kid I rushed to see him. The air smelled of sweat, manure, and feed. Although disgusting to some to me it smelled like home. My father always was a hard worker. Always had dirt around his crows feet and a nice

sunburned complexion that complemented his silver hair. When he finally sat down after taking his jacket and baseball cap off I asked if I could interview him about his job. At first he refused as he thought it was a waste of his time but relented when I offered my assistance with the horses. The next day my father brought me around the horses for the first time since I was a kid. The large stable sat perfectly parallel to the old ranch house as if the horses were keeping an I on my father. I walked in and was greeted with the familiar smell of Horse poop that could knock you flat with one sniff. I followed my father as he turned left into the office where he was keeping the horse feed at the time and proceeded to give me a bucket to scoop up some feed and deliver it to a hungry patron. As I approached one of the horses I felt a little uneasy as I did when I was a child but shrugged it off when I realized I am not that little kid anymore. I opened the first horse's gate and backed him with my left hand. Immediately to my right I noticed his feed bucket and poured him his food. I then did the same for three more horses while also giving them hay to snack on. I asked my father if he knew any of their names. He knew them all by heart, even their breeds. I then began the interview process by asking him how long he has been ranching. In which he told me he has been doing this since he was knee high to a grasshopper. As we continued the interview he had asked me to saddle up and we began to ride the freshly fed horses down the dirt road that led to the ranch house. The next question I asked him was how long has he been riding a horse and how useful of a skill has it turned out to be? “ I've been riding horses since my dad taught me when I was a little younger than your age and it is a great experience for those who have never done it before and when ever I need one they let me on their back no matter what”. My father then detoured across the field to take a look at the rotting fence. My father spoke “You know when I was your age I fell off my first horse. I was riding with my father the same as us right now when a little garter snake spooked the horse and threw me like I was nothing”. I remember that story he told it so many times before but I just let him tell it every time to humor him.  We proceeded to knock down the rotting fence using sledgehammers. One little wind up over my shoulder always does the trick especially when the wood is already hanging off the decrepit fence. After a long day my father and I drove back home listening to “daddy sang bass” by Johnny Cash and I realized how much I respect that man.