EVEN SPLIT

AT ONE TIME IN MY LIFE I WAS TRYING TO EARN A LIVING WITH MY RIGHT ARM, A GOOD HORSES AND A ROPE.  the nature of the economics of the time dictated I had to work some kind of a job to pay entry fees, never mind feed myself or that good horse.  most rodeo bums that wernt winning very consistant found them selves like me. the best job for that deal was on a branding crew at a feedlot.  you were paid by the head, and if you hit a lick at a rodeo you just didn't go back, no one missed you and you sure didn't miss the job. working on a branding crew meant a bloody, nasty cold or hot wet , miserable job.  there was one feedlot in casa grande that traded feeder cattle like crazy. they bought large numbers of feeder cattle in mexico, brought them to casa grande and shaped them up and resold them to folks that needed tax shelters. at the time that was the best way to hide money from uncle sam.  you could invest in a pen of feeders, feed them out to fat, loose 20 dollars a head on them at market time and still net 100 dollars head in tax benefits.  while branding cattle there we got involved in some marathon brandings. one stint going 48 hours straight with only a small break to take a nap lying on the concrete next to the chute.   many times we would brand and process the same bunch of cattle numerous times as the suits in the office kept trading them around. some of those steers got more brands than could be counted. the pharmaceutical sales people loved that place. it was a steady progression of delivery trucks with vaccines, grubacide and any number of different antibiotics. wormer was just beginning to get popular even tho a good product wasn't available.  after a all nite stint branding cattle that would appear in the ally out of the dark we were brought a pen of little steers we had processed just 10 hours earlier.  we were brought 2 different electric branding irons. the yard boss explained that 2 fellas who were partners bought this string of steers but needed to have their own personal brand on their half to satisfy the tax man. the cattle would be fed together and managed together but had to have the two different irons. instead of counting off half and processing the steers the yard boss said to just brand every other one with one iron and every other with another iron. this sounded easy except he was talking to a bunch of bleary eyed , shit encrusted  blood smeared, sleep deprived ropers!  we got started, and it wasn't long that I noticed the fellow with the irons had lost track of who got what. we stopped, went into yhe holding pen and counted noses. yep mr. doller sighn (that was one brand) didn't have enough cattle branded to make half. oops! we restarted and branded enough to make up the deficeit. then returned to the every other one game. as we neared the end of the pen we looked up and the cowboys were penning ANOTHER 300 head behind the branding chute. paper work showed the same owners, same drill. long story short 5 hours later we had got to the end of the cattle, cleaned up our gear and loaded up to get a shower, a hot  meal and some sleep. next morning I was up and ready to go when I got a phone call there wasn't any more work. seems mr. doller sighn had a bigger intrest than his partner, and we had been replaced. that was no heart break.  but the new crew had no heart and after a 24 hour shift they farted and fell. back we went!