Their job isn't all roses

A week or so ago, I was chewing some Rice Krispy marshmellow stuff that Marge makes, and I bit down on something hard. Darn! It was a crown off one of my molars in the back. I had previously been to the dentist, and he flagged it because somehow that same tooth had developed a cavity under it. So anyway, after a trip to the dentist, he said he'd replace the crown and see how long it would last before he had to pull the tooth.

So as I was getting ready to go to the dentist, I got to thinking again about bad breath. I have wondered down through the years about how a dentist could stand some people's bad breath. I brushed and hopefully took care of mine, but how many come in spouting garlic breath or gosh knows what. I wonder if there are times when he sprays a good smell in the mouth before diving in to do the dental work.

I also go to the foot doctor every three months, and he trims my toenails and checks them because I'm diabetic. I've wondered if my feet stink. I always take a shower before going and wear clean socks, but still I don't know. It's been probably 70 years ago since I could get my toes to my nose or mouth, and I sure can't do it now. I'm betting there are times when someone comes in with feet that would gag a maggot, and Doc has to work on them.

Made me think of growing up on a cattle ranch in Nebraska. The picture most have of a cowboy is a guy or gal dressed in a fine western shirt, neckerchief tied around the neck, a pair of blue jeans, a fine pair of cowboy boots such as Justin's and a western belt with a buckle the size of a soup bowl. They ride a horse and look sharp. Rope a calf now and then.

But what about the time you run an old cow or bull in the chute because they have a huge lump on the side of their jaw and neck. You feel of the lump and it's tight so it might be a solid mass, but it could be swollen tight. So you get your trusty pocket knife, the same one you ate turnips with last week, and push the knife into the solid mass. Out blows the raunchiest smelling yellow gunk (puke) you can imagine. You tried to get out of the way but didn't so you are wearing it. This is real life as a cowboy or rancher and not the slick image we have imagined.

Or you have a heifer trying to calve, but she just isn't getting anywhere. So you run her in the chute and, if you have a long plastic glove, you slide that on or, if you don't, you go in bare-armed. If you can feel the nose and two front feet, you slide the chains on the front feet and do some pulling. If the head isn't coming, you slide a head cable over the calf's head over the ears and under the calf's lower jaw and pull some more. Hopefully you will get the calf pulled and all turns out ok.

Everything in life doesn't smell like roses or Ogallala Bay Rum. Man, I still remember when we brought our new son home and the smell of those cloth diapers made me gag. If I'd have had to clean them, I'd have chucked them and got new ones.

But isn't this life? Some of it's really, really good, but then some is really, really bad! Some days life smells like chokecherry blossoms, which is in my opinion the best smell on earth. But then some days life smells like a rotten squishy potato that you just picked up thinking it was a good one. But this is life.

But when I think back on life, I seem to have more good memories then bad ones. I like to think of them as precious memories.