I've always heard mules were great
And more sure footed than a horse.
Being a cowboy that has to be shown,
I had to try one, of course.
I found a mule that looked real good,
About fifteen + hands and stout.
I wanted to make sure what I was buying,
He was a good looker, no doubt.
I rubbed him on the back and neck
And gave him that Tellington look.
I thought I was doing everything right,
I had read her book.
His eyes were soft and gentle,
He showed no sign of fear.
I soon learned about his attitude change
Whenever a saddle was near.
I walked up to him like I would my horse
And put my saddle down.
He looked it over, laid his ears back
And started pawing the ground.
He looked at me like I was something to eat.
I got out of his way quick as I could,
To keep him from mangling my feet.
I don't rightly know what happened next,
I guess I was kinda in shock.
I couldn't believe ears like that
Could grow in solid rock.
Now I can spot an attitude
And it seemed his had no cure.
I picked up my saddle and walked away,
I was busted up enough, for sure.
In my younger days, I would have ridden him,
I tried everything in my youth,
I'm not the man I used to be
Not riding that critter was proof.
I had a picture of me flying through the air
And breaking another bone.
With that in mind, it was plain to me,
My passion for a mule was gone.
I still don't know the mistake I made,
I'm far from perfect of course.
But here's the deal, you keep your mule
And I'll just stick with my horse.
Willie P. 10/1/22
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