Whitewater Cowboy
The grandkids called me up one day and said “to the Snake River” they was headed to play. They urged me get off my pony and come, to ride on their raft and have lots of fun. Well, I been workin’ quite hard, I could use a break. Fixin’ fence and buckin’ hay are making my back ache. So against my better judgement I decided to go. “Come on, Grandpa Jonesy!” they pleaded. I couldn’t say no. We met at West Table Creek, according to plan. They was wearin’ swim togs and had a beautiful tan. My western shirt and…