A cowboy passes by a ranch and strikes up a conversation with the rancher sitting by the gate.
The cowboy asks the rancher, “Mind if I talk to your dog over there?”
“Damn fool, don’t you know dogs can’t talk?”
The cowboy replies, “So what’s the harm?”
The rancher shrugs, “Go right ahead.”
The cowboy ambles up to the dog and says, “Howdy!” The dog replies, “Hello.”
The rancher’s eyes pop wide open.
The cowboy continues, “Does your master here treat you alright?”
“Sure does. He feeds me, lets me sleep inside, and every day he takes me to the lake.”
The cowboy asks the shocked rancher, “Mind if I talk to your horse over there?”
The rancher replies, “Now, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I know for a fact that horses can’t talk.”
“Well then, what’s the harm?”
“Go right ahead,” says the rancher.
The cowboy says to the horse, “Hello.” The horse replies, “Hello.”
The rancher’s jaw drops.
The cowboy asks, “Your owner here treat you OK?”
“Sure,” replies the horse, tossing his mane. “He rides me every day, brushes me down, feeds me good, and he keeps me in the barn out of the bad weather.”
The cowboy looks satisfied and turns to the rancher, “Are those your sheep over there?”
The rancher looks alarmed and stammers, “Listen — them sheep out there, they’re — they’re nothing but a bunch of liars!”
An old cowhand came riding into town on a hot, dry, dusty day. The local sheriff watched from his chair in front of the saloon as the cowboy wearily dismounted and tied his horse to the rail. The cowboy then moved slowly to the back of his horse, lifted its tail, and placed a big kiss where the sun don’t shine. He dropped the horse’s tail, stepped up on the walk and aimed toward the swinging doors of the saloon.
“Hold on there, Mister,” said the sheriff. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”
“Reckon you did, Sheriff. I got me some powerful chapped lips.”
“And that cures them?” the Sheriff asked.
“Nope, but it keeps me from lickin’ ’em.”