Robert and Mary
They adopted him in a border town back more than a couple of years.
Robert was a battle-scarred, tough old vet and Mary had great big ears.
He was resting easy in the shade of a tree outside a small cantina.
Enjoying a meal of hot Fry bread stuffed with pork and jalapenas.
They walked up slow and cautious like and watched him for a while.
He tossed Mary a hunk of bread and she ate it with a smile.
Robert hung back a bit of course. He was always wary at first.
Walt just reached for his mug of pulque and continued to quench his thirst.
After a while Robert sauntered right up and took some offered pork.
He wolfed it right down (he was sure not the type to be using a fancy fork)
Now Walt didn’t know their names of course and they didn’t offer any.
He gave them the rest of his mid-day meal. He’d already eaten plenty.
His belly full, he sat in shade, took an unplanned short siesta.
He awoke later on to the sound of guitars from the starting Ojinga fiesta.
But laughter and dancing were not on his mind so he rode out of town right then.
After a few miles he turned and looked back. And those two were following him.
Later that night, as he brewed up some coffee, he decided on names for the pair.
He recalled his aunt Mary, who was big eared herself, and also had dark brown hair.
So he said, “You’ll be Mary”, and she smiled once again, “But what of that fella there?”
“Robert Lee, you’ll be. Your coat’s pretty gray, like the one that he used to wear”.
And that was that. They were bonded for life, from Chihuahua to old San Antone
They would eat when he did and go hungry sometimes, but he’s always find them a bone.
Through Kansas, Nebraska and into Wyoming, the tough couple proved their worth.
Bringing rabbits and such to the campfire at night and coyotes gave them wide berth.
They were with him for years through drives in Montana, and Denver and Ellsworth as well.
Walt was sometimes a drover, sometimes a trail boss and sometimes those drives were pure hell.
But Robert and Mary always stuck by his side. They made quite a trio for sure.
They got scraps from the cook, and rabbits and squirrels and drank from those rivers so pure.
Walt settled down finally with a spread of his own and lived out his last quiet years.
Sometimes he remembered that day in Ojinga. Sometimes that brought a few tears.
But mostly he smiled as he recalled those two dogs, and how they picked him as the one
To stick with and wander, through good times and bad, all those years in the warm western sun.
© 2015 Robert De Groff
