Cowboy

Cowboy was my friend.

Yes, his name was Cowboy. Cowboy wore this dang hat every minute of the day, that I know of.

Cowboy was a semi street person. In other words he had a room in a rooming house for the down and out. Didn’t much matter to Cowboy because his preferred spot to sleep was outside my apartment window. He slept under someone’s car if it was raining otherwise he didn’t much care. But then again he was drunk most of the time.

Cowboy never laid a hand on me. But, against my advice, he would lay his hands on someone if they dared threaten me in any way. He had been in jail several times, his 3 sons were in jail and he was about as touch a guy as they come. But was gentle and kind to me.

People misjudged Cowboy. They thought because he was an alcoholic and street person he was therefore stupid. Not so.

One year, it was the day of my birthday (I didn’t even know he knew) and someone had taken me out for most of the day. I returned about 6 pm and someone knocked on my door and said would I go outside and see Cowboy, he had been waiting for me all day. I went out and poor old Cowboy was drunk as a skunk again. He had a huge smile on his face and he said, “I have a birthday present for you”. He rolled over, he had passed out on the cake he brought me. And then he brought out a bottle of wine and gave it to me, wishing me happy birthday. So dear ol’ Cowboy and I sat on the ground eating cake with our fingers and drinking from the bottle of wine. Best birthday presents and day I have ever had.

About a couple of weeks later I went to Florida and visited another friend and bought some Florida souvenirs. When I returned I gave a couple to Cowboy. Well, he was so proud he kept them in his pocket until he died. He showed everyone and it got pretty worn and torn but he loved it.