The Deathly Duel at the Jurrasic (Road Side) Park

by Kevin on November 20, 2013

I had just come up out of a draw that was probably forty feet wide and took longer than forty minutes to get through. Three different times I had to back my horse up and look for another way. I had to get off one time and me and my horse army crawled through the brush. I was on the outside and I knew that I was probably behind the rest of the gathering and kicked my horse into a slow lope as I looked for the sheep we were gathering.

And that’s when it happened!

Out of the mesquite and other stickers came a phantom of a shape. It stood about seven feet tall and its muscles rippled as its hammered feet pounded the ground. With instincts honed by forces we cannot imagine, and my encroachment upon its territory, this beast led the charge towards the interlopers that were my horse and I.

My horse braced, not knowing if he would wait for my cue to shuck out or if he would handle an evasive maneuver on his own. I tried to remain calm and readied myself for battle. Alas, there were no lances or swords on this gathering, so the end of my rope would act as my mace. I reached down and calmed my steed, in deed as well as in essence, trying to calm myself the more.

The terror that thundered down on me paid little mind to the wake of sheep it split like a motorboat through calm waters. I audibly groaned at the sight I beheld. Getting sheep back into one bunch in west Texas brush works about like a cowboy trying to figure out tupperware. It seems simple enough, but no matter what you try, it just doesn’t seem to go together like it did before it came apart.

All of a sudden, my predicament went from dire to deadly. A child’s voice rang out through the cacophony and sent chills down my spine, and slid down to legs that were desperately trying to keep a frightened horse between them.

“Look mom! A cowboy!”

As luck would have it, I had come out of the thick brush, and right up against a fence that bordered the interstate highway. That wench that has been referred to as Lady Luck had also placed a rest area in this exact spot where an epic battle was going to take place in a matter of moments. This facility didn’t have facilities so the mom and child had crawled over the fence to relieve themselves in the brushy privy of my battle arena.

I groaned audibly for the second time and side passed my horse to place us in between the advancing dragon and the helpless family. Never did a knight feel any different than I did that day. Well, except knights probably didn’t pee a little in their wranglers before battle.

It was close now! My horse danced between my legs–left foot stomp, right foot stomp, left foot stomp. My heart pounded in multiplied rhythm, yet it seemed to skip a beat when the young child asked the mom, “Can I pet it?”

I snapped my head around and saw the woman pick up the child and smile sweetly at me as she headed towards the beast!

My voice might have been somewhat brusk as I yelled, “Get back over the fence! Now!”

She cradled the child as if I had struck them instead. One arm holding the child to her chest and the other one burying the child’s face into her bosom in an attempt to shield it from the bad man on the yellow horse. She quickly made her way through the mesquite, hollering for who I guessed was either a husband or possibly a brother. With the way my luck was going, this man would surely turn out to be Chuck Norris or Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.

But I didn’t have time to worry about that! My nemesis was upon me…

I didn’t even remember starting my rope to swinging. I timed my blow much as I think David did when he squared off against Goliath. Faster the rope swang; momentum being gathered together with each revolution in an attempt to strike a debilitating blow to the vile creature who sought to destroy not only me, but surely this young family who were still picking their way through the brush.

The beast was feet away and I saw its neck and head kind of rear back (much like a dragon will do before it breathes fire) and I knew my chance to strike was now.

The rope whistled through the air and the honda sang its battle cry as it rang true right between the beast’s eyes.

This was too much for my horse and the flight instinct took over in place of all the training. Not only did it want to leave, it wanted me to stay there and do battle while it left. The yellow cow horse bogged his head and tried to pull the ejection seat lever. Up I went as his head disappeared, yet in the midst of this, I still loaded my rope for another blow.

With a higher trajectory I was able to land a blow squarely on the demon’s head. The crack was audible and this time, the beast retreated a few paces and stopped…my horse did not.

Quicker than a lightning flash, I lost a stirrup and in his fear, my horse sensed it and dove away from the blown stirrup. I landed hard amongst the brush, still holding my weapon in one hand and a broken rein in the other. I jumped to my feet in preparation to defend myself and the beasts snakelike head and neck swayed back and forth like a cobra looking for the strike.

We were fixing to come together again for a third round, like two demigods fighting in some greek epic, when a sound from the roadside park fence stopped both man and beast.

“Hey!!” A slight man wearing a tie and a sweater yelled at us. “I’m going to call the cops and have you arrested for animal cruelty!”

I never saw it coming, but thanks to the man in the sweater, the beast landed the final blow before it disappeared back into the brush.

I wiped the llama loogie off my face and neck, knowing that he would never understand that the cute little animal his kid wanted to pet was protecting its sheep from two interlopers in its pasture. It had never been after me, it had been going for a wife and kid when I showed up at the right time.


This is a great example of how easily those that don’t know any better can misconstrue cowboy ministry. Time and time again, those that don’t know any better venture off into unfamiliar territory, oblivious to the dangers that don’t reside in their paved lives of justice and morality.

Myself and many of my pards who gather these untamed pastures fight battles on behalf of the gospel only to be shunned and ridiculed by the very ones we are attempting to protect. We get bucked off and stomped in our missions, not because we like it, but because we are called to gather the wild country…not the west side of Suburbia, USA.

You may not agree with our methods. You may not agree with our choice of words. You probably won’t agree with anything we do, but we are not against you…we are just called to a job that you know nothing about.

The next time you go to criticize someone that is working for the Lord, before you call him false prophet or false teacher, remember the words of Jesus:

“Hey Boss!” said John, “we seen these fellas driving out demons in your name and we put a stop to it because they ain’t one of us.”

“Don’t pull ’em up and stop ’em,” Jesus told them. “A fella can’t do something miraculous in my name and in the next moment say anything cross about me. Whoever ain’t against us is with us. I’m tellin’ it to you straight that anyone who comes to your aid in my name because you ride for me will not lose their reward.”

Mark 9:38-41 Simplified Cowboy Version (SCV)

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  • Bless you Kevin for stepping into the breech and battling the beast. And bless you for doing it even when it is misunderstood, maligned and slighted. We fight against not just this world but the agents of darkness as well and they don’t fight fair. God already won the war, but we still have to battle on!

    Battle on brother, battle on!

  • Janell Butts

    Kevin…all I can say is thank you for doing the job..god wants you to do….I count on that daily.

  • Harl

    Kevin. Thanks you.

  • Jim Nirri

    Don’t matter about people a criticizing or disapproving of words or agreeing ! What matters is the great work that Save The Cowboy is doing and the unique, simple and straight forward messages that you are gett’in out to there. Great job Kevin and thanks.

  • Another great post, Kevin–you had me on the edge of my seat, wonderin’ what in the world you were up against. A good parable, also about how sometimes churches that are not ‘normal’ get misunderstood and badmouthed. Just the other day, a neighbor asked if we wanted to go to church with them, and when I said we go to a cowboy church, I didn’t get the words completed before he went, “Phht!” and had a disgusted look on his face. I just smiled and said, “Hold on, you serve Him where He’s called you, and I serve where He’s called me. The imprtant thing is, we both serve Him.”

    Didn’t help, but what ya gonna do?

  • Sharon

    I was wondering what you were up against as well! Yes, great parable. I love your stories! Thank you and keep up the great work you do!

  • Prime example of those who do not understand what ranching is all about…..great parable!

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