A Wooly Rodeo

Years ago, when just a kid,
There were some crazy things I did
That kids today will never have the chance.

Like going to feed my first show calf
On the edge of town, about a block and a half
At Smitty's house because he had some pens.

We lived on the edge of town
And twice each day I would walk down
Or, ride my bike to take care of that calf.

Smitty kept some sheep there
And succumbing to a friendly dare
We one day had a mini rodeo.

Riding on those wooly sheep
Upon whose back we'd quickly leap
Until we ended in a dusty pile.

Now, Smitty was the sheriff
And we had not asked him if
We could ride those sheep he kept there in that pen.

He happened to arrive at home
With lights flashing on the dome
Of the sheriff's car in which he drove.

It seems someone had seen us
And called him just to discuss
What we were doing to his wooly herd.

We thought we might just go to jail
Or, maybe that our hides he'd nail
To the side of one of his old rusty barns.

While we stood and waited
For the judgement we were fated
My mother showed up 'cause she had been called.

To say she wasn't happy
Was as understated as could be
And she said, "Just wait until your father gets home."

I think you know the rest
Of how a leather belt will test;
I don't think I could sit for 'bout a week.