Freddy The Cowboy

As I told you before, we all went to Colorado and spent 10 days at a dude ranch, Wind River Ranch, high in the Rocky Mountains. Now what this meant for me was that I needed to be a rootin-tootin cowboy, and in order to play the part correctly I needed a proper cowboy persona complete with cowboy boots, leather vest, bandanna scarf, matching cowboy hat, and of course a holster and pistol. My weapon of choice was a fancy six-shooter with a authentic looking wooden handle, the bullets were actually those red paper rolls of caps that needed to be threaded into the gun and aligned with the hammer, and when fired correctly gave a satisfying bang! and followed by the distinct smell of gunpowder. To make my alter-ego complete, I somehow decided that Sean wasn't an acceptable cowboy name, (whoever heard of a real cowboy named Sean), they all had names like Billy, Butch, or Sundance, not a very un-cowboy name like Sean. So I thought a better name for myself would be Freddy. I actually remember where I got the name, it was from one of the older kids in my neighborhood named Freddy, who would ride a skateboard or his bike dangerously, I thought he was cool and so I thought it would make an intimidating cowboy name for myself. So from then on at the ranch I insisted on being called Freddy. Another one of Freddy's cowboy powers I deemed upon myself was that I had poison teeth. I guess Freddy's symbolic cowboy animal identity was the rattlesnake (an appropriate creature to emulate I thought) and if I were to be truly powerful and respected by all the grown-ups, poison teeth certainly should be able to fight of any vicious bad guy or Indian. So there I was at Wind River Ranch living by the code of the West and having all the cowboy accoutrement's at my disposal.

The ranch was situated on many acres of forest and meadow and had a few acres of horse corrals and places to ride and play. Surrounding parts the ranch and the cabins were many areas of tall grass and weeds which were great fun for us kids to play and hide in, my cousin David and I would spend a great part of the day playing cowboys and Indians, or more likely since we were both cowboys we played cowboys and cowboys, but the tall grass provided many opportunities for various games. Since I was only about 4 years old at the time the grass and weeds was a good foot taller than I was and it was easy for me to get lost and disoriented, but I quickly learned to navigate the weeds and became comfortable with it's tendency to swallow me up. One time my Mom and Dad were out looking for me among the many acres of woods, cabins and tall grass, they searched the ranch calling my name (Sean) but I wouldn't answer and preferred to stay hidden in the tall grass. My parents started to get a little concerned and frantic since there was a distinct possibility that I could've wandered off and gotten lost in the woods, and a real possibility of being attacked by the numerous wild animals reported around the ranch. My Aunt and Uncle and a few of the other guests assisted in the search and I vaguely remember being aware of this but still remained hidden in the tall grass. Another guest at the ranch who was familiar and amused with my taking the cowboy name Freddy suggested that my parents call out Freddy instead of Sean, and doing this convinced me to re-appear out of the weeds a mere few feet away. My parent and the rest of the search party were both amused and a wee-bit angry at me for scaring them, but from then on everyone knew my name was Freddy and took it seriously.

At the time I was way too young to ride a horse by myself but I took every opportunity to go on supervised horse rides in the corral with the many wranglers there to assist us dudes with the horses. It was one of the last days at the ranch and Mom and Dad had scheduled to let me have a horse ride around the corral. Riding a horse was very exciting and represented the ultimate in cowboy activity, so up on the horse I went while Dad held the reigns and Mom stood back with the camera. I was feeling very cowboy and confident sitting up in the saddle, decked out in my hat, boots and duds, and I thought it would be an appropriate time for me to take out my pistol and fire off a shot like they do in the movies. I pulled out my gun, pointed it in the air (very cowboy-like) and Bang! went a cap. This was lucky and unusual because normally the hammer of the gun misses the cap and you get an unsatisfying snap with no bang, but this time the hammer hit the cap perfectly and gave off a particularly loud bang. Well, needless to say this startled the horse and he reared back at the sudden sound, coming back down and stepping on my Dad's foot as he struggled to control the horse. Dad composed the horse and himself and then became agitated at me for shooting the gun in the first place. I thought it was a great idea at the time but I then immediately knew I did something wrong and began to panic and cry. The horse calmed down quickly, but now I was more concerned that the wranglers were going to be angry with me and take my gun away.

That was the beginning of the end for Freddy the Cowboy, now humiliated by acting impulsive and un-cowboy-like. I sadly went back to being Sean again, but kept the poison teeth for a few weeks.