Tag Archives: -Western

I write Music Too!

I am starting a new blog for Cal Gary and The Bow Bottom Band. You can go to it here.


A little while ago I drifted away from my usual writing to try my hand at writing songs, both lyrics and music.  I grew up listening to country music from the ’50s – ’80s and although I drifted away from it to pop, then rap, then dance followed by classic rock, then grunge and so forth I found myself reintroduced to it via new alternative country.

I started writing lyrics with a list of common themes from some of my favourite old country songs and have so far completed quite a few of them.

I also discovered a great website for writing music which is handy because the only instrument I can play is a piano and I don’t own one.  This site is called:

Noteflight and you can find my completed songs here.

I will also add all of my songs here as well.

Menage Monday – Week 7

The Dogs in the Firelight

Five years I’d been ridin’ these rails.  I left my Maritime home hopin’ for somethin’ better, but instead found savagery, both by men… and, by beast.

The snow was blowin’ cross the prairies, an early season blizzard.  The west bound CPR line was full of vagabonds heading to the coast seekin’ out better weather.  Me and my travellin’ buddy, Greystone —a goliath of an Indian but gentle as a Sunday lamb— left a packed freight car just outside of Coleman.  The men were getting restless and we wanted no part of it.  Thought we’d wait for another train before things went south.

Greystone found an overhang out of the wind that was rippin’ through the pass, it always blew here, on a good day it’d blow you toRegina, on a bad, you could find yourself in theAtlantic.  This was a different wind though, from the southeast, cold and bitter.

I didn’t see’em comin’.

Greystone’d gone off to kill dinner, I lit a fire.  I was used to hearin’ the wolf at my door, both real and imagined, but this wasn’t the cry of no wolf, it was meaner, desperate, hungry, and it was close.  Feet padded in the bush around me.  I caught a shadow in the firelight.  At first I thought it was a cougar, but cougars don’t howl.  Another joined, something danglin’ from his mouth.  I knew right away it was Greystone’s head.  He dropped it, then another came, draggin’ the body.  They let out a long howl and a half-dozen more joined the feast.

I couldn’t do nothin’.  I sat behind my firelight and watched as the savage dogs ripped and fed on my friend, right there in front of me, like they was mockin’ me, tellin’ me I were next.

Two dogs played tug-o-war with Greystone’s braids in their mouths, fightin’ over him like two pups over sausage links.  Another leapt in and ripped the head away.  I heard bone smash as it broke the head on the rocks.  It was the final bit of feed.  Eight dogs fought each other over the remainin’ meat, lappin’ at it.  Then they stopped and stared at me.

I threw a stick on the fire, sending up a cloud of sparks.  They didn’t flinch.  The dogs spread out, searching for a way in and letting off low growls, tellin’ me I was their next meal.  Then they all stopped and turned.

A shadow appeared off to my right.  At first I thought maybe it was Greystone, but this was too big, far too big.  He let loose a long deep growl.  The pack dispersed.  He laid chase, barely makin’ a sound as he followed’em through the trees and out of site.

I spent the night stoking the fire, chilled to the bone and terrified.  Daylight brought little relief.  The scraps of blood soaked clothes and gnawed bones reminded me of what happened.

The rails once again beckoned me, but not west, I was long overdue for home.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 58

“You sure you want to do that, chief?”
Lazy Horse stood on the edge of the cliff. “Why do you call me chief, Flightless Bird?”
Flightless Bird hesitate before addressing him. “Because we are a tribe and you are our leader.”
“Is a tribe not more than two?” Lazy Horse replied, Flightless Bird shrugged in response. “But you are right and if I do this we shall be more.”
He lifted the flaps of hide behind him and leaned into the wind.
“What if you fail Chief?” Flightless Bird asked.
“Then you shall be Chief, Flightless Bird and you will find someone who will guide you to greatness as you have guided me.” Lazy Horse looked to the valley below, then to the far reaches of the prairie beyond. He closed his eyes and lept, gliding heroically and gracelessly screaming to the unforgiving ground below. A puff of dust arose from where the former Chief learned that he could not fly.
Flightless Bird shrugged and turned away. He knew there was camp within a two nights hike. There was always a lonely brave that he could cull.

#HumpdayChallenge Week 5

Fucked In a Hole 
I wished I’d never looked back.
The badgerhole came out of nowhere. The pain was instant. Blood ran down my calf. I could feel bone sticking out, a cataclysmic break, no hope.
The man crested the hill but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. The glint of the rifle caught my eye, like a sparkling diamond. “Do it!” I pleaded, I wish the man would just pull the trigger. “Fucking kill me you bastard,” I Screamed my desire to the wind. The man just turned back towards the hill.
A cold nose touched the bottom of my foot.