CowboyBootStories.Com

I had just added a new pair of boots to my “collection” as my dad would have said, about six months prior to this big event. He and I were in competion of a different sort. We didn’t team rope, or anything. We had a friendly rivalry going on about who could wear there boots the longest without taking them off for any reason. That meant not even a good ole shower !
I decided that I could easily do this in the 30 days that I had spoke for. He decided that was a fair guess of the amount of days that he could go as well. Well “It was ON!!” so to speak.
I absolutely LOVE my boots, well I put a new meaning to the word LOVE by the time this was all over and done with. He decided that the ideal month for us to do this was in June. June when the weather is nice and hot and you would rather be swimming and wearing flip flops. I work outside all summer long. He is retired and sat in the air conditioning. I kind of forgot some of the down sides to letting him decide the when and where etc.
But my boots got a workout from the outside in and the inside out literally.
My boots showed me why I “LOVED” them so much. Not only did we win our little bet with my dad, but I never realized how versitle they could be. They are truly fashion wear and work wear.
My Twisted X boots and I did it all in 30 days. We went swimming in the lake, the river, did some boating (boots and a swim suit how cute), we went to the county fair through the sunshine and the rain. Managed to enter a open class with my daughter and her horse and WIN. Drove the tractor, planted the garden. We even mowed the grass on the rider and got the beautiful tan lines mid way up the leg-boy did I look funny after that 30 days. We even attended a wedding and a Harley Rally.
Well I still have that pair of boots that I wore for the “competition” but now they sit on the window sile with flower pots in them I can’t bring myself to let them go, they got me through that June, the rest of summer, through the fall and winter hospital visits and even a funeral. I decided that when my dad got sick and passed away that no matter how ridiculous they looked I knew that he would smile down and know that those were my “competition” boots. So it was only fitting that they went to his farwell with me.
My mother understood but I did get a few funny looks. But I figured the guy that we were there to celebrate would know the reason why so that was all that mattered. My dad and I loved our boots.He was buried in his, so I guess in the end sad but true he actually “won” the competition.

There isn’t a day I more cherrish than when I can slip on a pair of my favorite jeans only to be topped off with a pair of my boots.
The sun was up as I headed out to hop into my black pickup truck to enjoy my weekend. Oh I had a couple of errands to run, but it was still my schedule..not someone else’s. Stops included a visit to my parents, pay a few bills, and a trip to my hair stylist.
The day really was quite relaxing. As my day progressed I found myself at the end of my errands getting my hair cut. As the young lady trim my salt n pepper hair she commented that my beard and mustache need trimmed also. As any good cowboy does I heeded her words and left her do her thing. She then wanted to change the color of my facial hair to match what nature had left me on top of my head. Again I granted her this wish.
After she was done with eveything she stated how handsome I look now.

The moral of this story is that you should always “go with the flow”..because all Real Cowboys..die(hair-dye) with their boots on!!

Hi my name is the left one. I have a sister named the right one. She’s a litle shy so I will tell you my story. About a year ago we were mailed to a lady in NY state. We wern’t even a week old and she’s trying to clean stalls with us on her feet. Mind you now we’re not a pair of those cheap plain boots. We are a pretty turquoise and brown sexy boot so cleaning stalls was not what we had in mind. After about 5 minutes of that we decided to give her a blister. She learned real quick and got a pair of muck boots for that. I thought we had it straight but then she went out in the pasture to get her pretty white horse. I kept yelling at her “Wait,watch out, don’t step in that.” It was too late. My sister and I were in it up to our calves. She couldn’t hear us ’cause she was to busy chasing after her horse. Green horn! Wasn’t long before she was using us for the purpose for which we were made. But wait there’s more. Two weeks ago she and some of her riding buddies went on the first trail ride of the year. Boy was that pretty white horse ready to act up or what. After trying to race across every field and kick at the other horses he managed to actually kick one. This shook her up so bad she decided to get off that awful horse and lead him back to the barn. I said wait,wait! Remember ALL that mud and water we rode through to get here? When we were safely in the stirups? You’re not thinking of—-Yep she is. This time she couldn’t hear us ’cause she was yelling at that horse. We were a brown mess when we got home. Luckly we are a good pair of cowgirl boots and we were cleaned and almost back to new. I’m sure we have more to go through before our days are done but our owner has learned a lot about boots and horses in the last year.