“He thought life away from the ranch would be wonderful…freedom…no chores…no one to boss him around and tell him what to do. But life wasn’t what he thought it would be for a runaway. He roamed around the highways and little towns feeling lonely and lost. He begged in the streets for measly bits of food and a shelter over his head. After a while, he wished he could return home to the ranch, but he didn’t know if his family would take him back.”
The cowboy reached forward and stirred the fire with a stick. For a few minutes, Smokey sat silently, poking at the fire. A coyote howled from somewhere in the darkness. An owl hooted from a nearby tree. Finally Hunter spoke up. “What happened to him?”
“Well, one day, after months of wandering around and suffering, he made up his mind to go back to that Montana ranch. As he walked beneath the familiar log beams that formed the entry to the ranch, he saw his father galloping toward him on a horse. Before the horse could even come to a stop, his father leapt off its back and ran up to him, taking him in an embrace that nearly popped his eyes out.” Smokey chuckled at the image his story had conjured up in his mind.
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