Sometimes living in Oklahoma is just the best of the best, especially if you have secret cowgirl lifestyle yearnings. Deep in the heart of Oklahoma City, a stockyard sprang up today, surrounded by modern, glassy skyscrapers, and there was much mooing. I sketched longhorn cattle and wished I had on a pair of cowgirl boots or a pink denim jacket. I would have blended in better.
I watched a big freckled gray bull named Trail Dust enter a squeeze chute where a crew of eight strong cowboys measured his horns. Trail Dust bore the weight of an immense edifice that drooped away from his head and rose again, black tipped. He had to turn his whole head sideways and tilt the horns straight up to get in the chute. “I think he has or had the record for the longest total horn” the announcer said. They came out to 108 11/16 inches. “He’s got more total horn than anything today” said the announcer. “When he first started coming here, he was white. Now he’s turned a real dark mulberry roan color. Isn’t he a beautiful bull?” He was. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He made me feel like such a cowgirl. Now, if I just had the right boots.