"The Ira ‘Rawhide’ Coogan Story

It was a dark and stormy night and Ira "Rawhide" Coogan’s eyes widened in fear. "Jumping Jeosphats!" he screamed. Another bolt of lightening like that one and those cattle would be on a rampage.

When he had signed on for the job old Ben Cartwright had made it quite clear that those doggies had to keep on moving. He remembered his exact words quite clearly. "Though the streams are swollen, though their disapproving, keep those doggies moving Rawhide."

He wasn’t sure he should have taken this job. It was a strange group. One guy carried a rifle that he kept twirling and another one wore a black suit with a string tie and was always and forever trying to get Rawhide into a card game. And yet a third one, also in black, kept passing out his business card to everyone he met. Ira wasn’t sure what business this gentlemen was in -- the card only had this horse head on it with the words "Wire Paladin San Francisco."

But, up until the time old Ben had hired him, Ira had been a saddle sore saddle tramp tumbling along with the tumbleweeds and he figured he needed to spend some time with a close-knit family like he had always heard these Cartwrights were.

Old Ben himself, owner of the sprawling gazillion square miles called the Ponderosa, was a big man with a full head of white hair. He seemed like a "man’s man" but Ira had to wonder about the purple shirt he favored. The eldest son, Adam, was tall, somber, responsible and always wore black. The middle son, Hoss, was a giant of a man but oh so gentle -- kind of a gentle giant. And then there was the youngest son, Joseph, Little Joe to his family and close friends. No doubt about it, old Ben had gotten it right with this last son. Handsome, with a devil-may-care attitude, Little Joe was everything a man could hope to have in a son. Ira had tried figuring this family out in his head but it just wouldn’t come together. How could the three sons be all so different in looks and personality but have the same father? It hurt his head somethin’ fierce to think about it but he couldn’t help pondering it.

Rawhide was lost in these thoughts when he heard a booming voice say "Hey Rawhide, looks like Juniper is about to stray and ole Bossy ain’t far behind." It was Hoss, who had named each of the 500 head of cattle they were driving to Dry Gulch. "Yes, Boss," replied Rawhide as he set his horse off in an easy gait after the straying cattle.

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Rawhide was never so glad to see the sun peeking up over the horizon. It had been a long, wet night in the saddle. He was sore and tired from pulling Little Joe out of that swollen creek. The poor kid had been trying to pull a steer out of the mud and had fallen in himself. Little Joe’s clothes had clung to him like a second set of skin outlining every inch of that muscular young body. It bothered Rawhide in a way that he noticed all those muscles especially the biggest. . . . His thoughts were interrupted by Hoss telling him it was time to head back to camp.

He and Hoss rode slowly into the camp hoping there was still some hot coffee and beans left. Adam was off by himself reading something that rhymed and Little Joe was stretched out under the chuck wagon catching 40 winks. Just then Rawhide heard the unmistakable sound of a rattle snake and it was right near Joe! Before he could utter a warning the rattler struck biting Joe in several places. Ben rushed to Joe’s side yelling "Quick get all of his clothes off!" Hoss started to tenderly remove Joe’s shirt while Adam began pulling Joe’s pants slowly down over his hips. It looked like the youngest Cartwright was in for some loving care and concern from his father and two older brothers.

This reminded Ira of the time he was snake bit down in the Arizona territory. That ole rattler had gotten him on his right thigh. Whooooeeee, did that hurt. Thankfully, he had been traveling with an old wizen squaw, Wapeetee was her name, who took her knife, cut a cross hatch over the bite, and sucked that poison right out of his body. He owed that squaw his life and couldn’t help but wonder what had happen to her. Oh well, that was another lifetime ago.

Ira was jostled back into reality when Hoss slapped him on the back and said "Hey, let’s go get us some coffee and beans." "Looks like that danburn little brother of mine dodged another bullet so to speak." Sure enough, Joe, now fully dressed, was looking at his reflection in a mirror hung on the chuck wagon. He had a satisfied grin on his face and it was apparent to all that the youngest Cartwright was having a good hair day.

"Hop Sing make the best dang beans!" exclaimed Hoss. Hop Sing was the Cartwrights’s cook, nurse, and housekeeper all rolled up in one. Now, Ira wasn’t particular about his food, but the beans were horrible and the coffee extremely bitter. Yup, that Hop Sing must have something on the Cartwrights for them to keep him on.

"Well, boys, tomorrow’s the day we drive the cattle into Dry Gulch" said old Ben. He continued, "though we have had all kinds of weather and hell bent for leather, soon we’ll be living high and wide." Rawhide was a little apprehensive about going into that particular cattle town. He had had an unpleasant experience there a few years ago, but old Ben had said no bonuses would be paid until each and every head of cattle was in the pens at Dry Gulch.

Ira’s mind couldn’t think about it right now -- he would think about it tomorrow -- after all tomorrow was another day. All he wanted to do now was crawl into his sleeping bag and catch 40 winks before he and the other late-night wranglers had to get up and ride like the wind to catch the herd. But it was not meant to be. That strange guy in black (the one who wasn’t a Cartwright) tried to pawn off another business card on him. "You already gave me one," complained Rawhide. "Well take some for your friends then," the man implored him. Rawhide, feeling sorry for him, accepted a few more. "Psssst, Adam." "Who is that guy? And don’t you think he is just a little bit strange." "Yeah, I guess he is, but Hop Sing threatened to quit unless Pa hired him." "Hop Sing’s number two and number three cousins, Hey Boy and Hey Girl, know this guy from the hotel they work for in San Francisco. Apparently he owes these two cousins money so Hop Sing forced Pa to give him a job as a cowboy, although a cowboy he ain’t!" Getting no acknowledgment from Rawhide, Adam took a closer look. The old cowboy was already fast asleep.

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"Hey there old timer, time to rise and shine." It was Hoss, staring down at him with a gap toothed grin. "We gotta catch up to the herd, it’s almost lunch time and ole Hop Sing promised something extra special today." "Oh, yipppe," thought Ira.

Ira, Hoss, and the other cowpokes rode steadily until they saw the dust being kicked up ahead by the herd. Hoss had kept them all entertained with stories about his brothers’ lost and dead loves. Ira wasn’t sure all of these stories could possibly be true, but Hoss seemed like such an honest soul, there must be at least some truth to it all.

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Ira had drawn the early evening shift watching the herd with Adam and Little Joe. Adam had brought his guitar along and was softly serenading the cattle. "As I went a-walkin’ one mornin’ for pleasure, I spied a cowpuncher come ridin’ along; his hat was throwed back, and his spurs was a-jinglin’ and as he approached, he was singin’ this song." "C’mon everybody, join on in" whooped Adam. Joe, who Ira had noticed seemed to get irritated when ever Adam sang or played his guitar, was just ornery enough to start singin’ at the top of his lungs "Whoopee ti yi yo, git along, little dogies, it’s your misfortune and none of my own; Whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies, you know that Wyoming will be your new home." Of course, the cattle took off in fifty million directions.

*************

It had taken the cowpunchers two hours to get the cattle all settled back down. Rawhide could tell Adam was fiercely angry with his little brother. "Just wait until we get back to camp and I tell Pa what happen. . ." Before Adam could finish, Little Joe spurred Cochise and took off for camp to tell his side of the story to Pa. Adam and Rawhide spurred their horses and rode into camp right behind Little Joe.

"Joseph! How many times do I have to tell you, there is no need for you to ride that horse like there is a tribe of Apaches after you!" But then Ben took one look at Little Joe and realized that something was weighing heavy on his youngest’s mind. "Little Joe, son, what is wrong?" Little Joe looked up at his father, his bottom lip quivering and his eyes just burning for an answer, an answer that only his father could provide.

Once again, Ira’s thoughts were drawn back to the town of Dry Gulch. Sure she had been a prostitute, but she had a heart of gold. Why, or why, had it turned out the way it had? Did he dare show his face there again? Well, he would find out tomorrow that was for sure. He was drawn out of his reverie by the sound of laughter. Adam was laughing and slapping Hoss on the back and Little Joe was convulsed in giggles on the ground . Whatever had been the problem before had cleared up and the Cartwrights were back to being the close-knit family he had come to know.

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The cowboys were all anxious to get into Dry Gulch and get the trail dust out of their parched throats with a cool draft of beer. But first, old Ben called the crew around and gave them the lecture. "Dry Gulch is a tough town boys. It’s an open town. Anything goes. While you cowboys and my two sons Hoss and Little Joe are getting the cattle in the pens, Adam and myself will conclude our transaction with the buyer at the bank. We will meet you at the pens and pay you your last salary and bonus for getting the cattle here in good condition and ahead of time. BUT after you have received your money, you are on your own. . . I am not bailing any of you out of jail or taking responsibility for any damage you may cause. Is that understood?"

A chorus of "Yes boss" filled the air.

"Hey Rawhide, how about you and me heading over to one of the saloons after Pa pays out the money?" Rawhide looked in surprise at the youngest Cartwright. "I thought you would want to be with your Pa and brothers." "Uh, no, they have me on quite a short leash and I’m lookin’ to have some fun this trip." Rawhide had planned on seeing if Kitty was still working at the Last Chance saloon. Perhaps having Little Joe along would help break the ice with Kitty. "Sure Little Joe, would be my pleasure to show you around town."

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"Do they have any good lookin’ women in this town" inquired Little Joe as the two trudged down the dusty main street of Dry Gulch. "Well, son, the last time I was here, but that’s been a few years ago mind you, there were some. I would say with your looks you won’t have any problem attracting the pretty fillies." Joe just grinned and pushed his hat back on his head and pushed the swinging doors to the saloon in and walked in like he owned the place.

They noticed one of the Ponderosa cowboys already plying his luck at the card table. It was the one that always wore the black suit and the string tie. "Where is he from Joe and what’s his name? " "You mean you don’t know?" Joe shot back. "Natchez to New Orleans, living’ on jacks and queens, Maverick is a legend of the West." "Oh, yeah I have heard tell of him that luck is his companion and gamblin’ is his game." replied Ira.

"Cmon, Joe I’ll buy you a beer."

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As they were finishing their third beer, Rawhide felt a familiar hand caress his back. Did he dare hope that it would be Kitty? He turned slowly around. *Oh my God it is Kitty, but geeze what the hell has happened to her?* The years had not been kind to her. Realizing that he was being rude by just staring at her, he uttered "Well, doggone it if it isn’t Kitty -- how many years has it been?" "It’s been a few, handsome" replied Kitty, "Where have you been all these years, I’ve been savin’ myself just for you." *Don’t do me no favors* thought Rawhide, but instead he said "Well that’s mighty kindly of you Kitty, but I think you was long past the savin’ stage the last time we met." "Oh, Ira, how you do go on." "I mean I haven’t, you know, since you left." Ira was beginning to feel a little sickly at this point and knew he just had to get away, far away. "This is my friend, Little Joe Cartwright." "Just Joe ma’m," said Little Joe tipping his hat. "Kitty, I know you are in good hands with Joe here. I’m feelin a little poorly right now, I picked up some nasty stuff on the trail and I just need to go get some fresh air." With that Ira took off out the door.

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Ira thought about checking in at the hotel, but instead decided his money was better spent on a bottle of whiskey. He found himself a nice cozy spot in the hayloft of the livery stable and there he consoled himself with the bottle of whiskey and soon dozed off to sleep in the sweet smelling hay.

Rawhide didn’t know how long he had been asleep but he realized he was no longer alone in the hayloft. He could hear the sounds of soft laughter coming from another part of the hayloft.

"Why, Joe honey, if you just ain’t the sweetest thing," said a young female voice. "I’m so glad grandma Kitty introduced me to you." "Well, that makes two of us darlin’" replied a young male voice."

It hit Ira with stunning clarity that the young male’s voice belonged to none other than Little Joe Cartwright. And the young female voice was, gulp, Kitty’s granddaughter? Now, he knew he would be sick.

Ira forced himself to quietly sit up and look over at the young couple. There was just enough light streaming through the windows that he could see every move they were making and he was close enough that he could hear every sound.

There was no more talk going on between the young lovers for the young woman was unbuttoning Joe’s shirt and caressing his chest and the two were lip locked. Little Joe pulled the young woman down into the sweet smelling hay and . . . Ira could not look any more. It was all so reminiscent of he and Kitty. The last time he had been here Kitty and him had had one wild time. In fact it was during that last stay in Dry Gulch that he had acquired the nickname "Rawhide." He smiled as he thought back on the role that Kitty played in that whole "Rawhide" thing. . . ah memories like the corners of your mind, misty water colored memories of the way we were. And with that Ira drifted back into a liquor induced sleep.

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The next thing Ira knew it was morning. Ira had slept in fits and starts all night. He had heard the young lovers as they were departing. The girl was gushing over how magnificent and wonderful Joe had been and Joe, for his part, was taking it all in stride like he had heard these same comments many times before. It has made Rawhide depressed all over again. "I rode all this way choking trail dust down my lungs, smelling those dang cows to see a woman who has long since passed her prime?"

But, to be fair about it, Ira knew that Kitty had probably been pretty disappointed in him too. He was no spring chicken either. Well, he had better go over and find Kitty and make amends.

The saloons in a rough and tumble cattle town never close and it was the same with Dry Gulch. Even though it was not yet 8:00 am, the Last Chance Saloon was alive with card games and saloon girls plying the customers with drinks. Kitty was one of them "girls" and her face lit up when she saw Rawhide comin’ through that swinging door.

*Ya, know, a old cowpoke like me could do worse that a woman like Kitty.* Rawhide forced himself to smile at Kitty as he walked towards her. "Let’s you and me find a quiet place to talk" he said as he took her hand and led her toward a corner of the saloon.

*************

"Well boys, time to mount up and ride" said Ben. "The ranch can’t run itself." No sooner had the words escaped his mouth when Rawhide came running up all excited. "Mr. Cartwright, Mr. Cartwright, I’m gettin’ married!" "Well you ole son-of-a-gun, who is the lucky lady." Ben said excitedly. "Well, I don’t know if I would classify her as a ‘lady’" guffawed Ira, "but she’s all mine!" Just then a slightly plump, slightly weathered looking woman in a bright red low cut dress came puffing up to stand beside Ira.

"Well, Joe, honey, nice to see you again." "Lydia said she had a nice time with you last night" Kitty said as she gave Joe a big wink. The other three Cartwrights turned and slowly looked towards Joe who quickly walked over to Ira and gave him a big slap on the back. "Congratulations, old timer!" "When’s the big day?"

"Why as soon as we can find the preacher!" Kitty and Ira said in unison. "Kitty and I are all alone in this world, well except for each other, and well, I’ve gotten close to you all on the trail, and well, I, er, we, were hoping that you would help us celebrate our love, and, well, I feel like your family, and oh, hell would you all be a part of our wedding?" finished Ira just as he ran out of breath.

"Why sure!" all the Cartwrights enthusiastically chorused together. "I’ll walk the bride down the aisle," volunteered Ben. "I’ll help you find a dress," suggested Adam. "I’ll pick some flowers for the church," exclaimed Hoss. "I’ll escort Lydia to the wedding," chimed in Joe.

"Oh, you are all so wonderful" exclaimed Kitty. "Even here in Dry Gulch we had heard what a wonderful family the Cartwrights of the Ponderosa were and now I know for a fact that it is true."

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THE END