Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • "If the cow shit gets between your toes, it's a bitch."

    That's the advice the queen of the gay rodeo tells me as we walk toward the arena. She's wearing pantyhose with sandals so I believe her.

    Someone whistles and shouts, "Looking good, mama." She serves up a shimmy and squeezes her faux boobs.

    Any other Saturday night, she'd be performing at the drag show where there is air-conditioning and fewer flies, she tells me. The only tip she's getting here is fashion advice.

    She's really not a fan of rodeos. Or horses. Or cows. Or dirt.

    So why is she out here on a day when the August sun melts the makeup right off your face no matter how much powder you pack on?

    "I do it for all the ones we lose," she says and follows the riderless horse into the dusty arena.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.