Distinctly Montana Magazine

2024 // Spring

Distinctly Montana Magazine

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35 w w w. d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m am in another room, and she is speaking to me, a very nearly deaf man, in a volume more appropriate to a cartoon duckling. From my perspective, she is telling me the most vital step in a long and difficult sequence of actions that I must take or, say, the bank is going to foreclose on us and steal our children, but she is practi- cally whispering it to me while I'm in the garage using a belt sand- er. Most of the time, I didn't even know I was being spoken to. It is only when I, for instance, fail to meet Gladys at the church with a tote bag full of marshmallows for her sweet potato pie during the potluck for Jim's grandchildren's e-sports team, which is going to play competitive Call of Duty in Sacramento next week, that I am made to understand that I have apparently missed something. "I told you to get some marshmallows and bring them to Glad- ys last week!" "Huh? When last week?" I'll ask. "I told you when you were 'fixing' the garbage disposal!" She indicated air quotes around the "fixing" because I had, in fact, failed to get it working again, though I had made a prodigious amount of noise trying. "I didn't hear you," I protest. "Then why did you nod and say 'uh-huh'?" "Because it's polite!" Things like this occur with semi-regularity in the Shelton house. But it doesn't happen to Buck, as no one ever talks to him but me, and I never say anything I expect him to remember. He is never asked to leave his perch on the coffee table and go deliver marshmallows to potlucks. Or if he is, then I'm almost certain he failed in his mandate. Either way, no one is bawling him out. There are other advantages to being Buck Bronco the statue cowboy. He doesn't have to make money, pay bills, or do the laun- dry. He doesn't have to watch his cash dwindle as costs increase. He doesn't have to buy his kids all the latest Nintendo Switch games, making sure that it's Pokemon the Green of the Rising Blue (or something), and not Pokemon Red of the Fallen Yellow. One time, my son lost his retainer in a hotel restaurant, and we had to dig through a dumpster for twenty minutes because it had been thrown away with the food scraps. Buck Bronco has never had to wade up to his knees through cold spaghetti and warm let- tuce to find his kid's retainer. Life is easy for old Buck, of whom nothing is asked and nothing is expected. The whole world is his open range. Or at least the living room. But then, something happens like I get something right for once and suddenly it's all "Wow, thanks, Dad," from the kids and "oh... you actually did what I asked" from the wife. Sometimes, if I am particularly lucky, I get a hug from my kids, which is a rare treat now that my kids are getting older, but which still has the potential to make my heart dance around my chest like a whirling M O N T A N A ' S P R E M I U M P A S T U R E R A I S E D B E E F 100 years of tradition shipped to your door. Raised by cowboys for the cowboy in us all. www.darlingtonranch.com

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