Paragoge (par-a-go’-ge): The addition of a letter or syllable to the end of a word. A kind of metaplasm.
I’m goin’ to the rodee-odee-o. I’m gonna’ ride Milky Way, the meanest milk cow ever to be born into this world. The bull who bread her mama was named Steam Shovel. Nobody knew why, but it sounded bad. He was a long-horn so every body steered clear of him for fear of being impaled on one of his 7-foot-horns: times two, they were 14 feet wide! So big, he couldn’t fit in a trailer, which made him even meaner. He was always mad and always ready to slash and dash. People talked about putting Steam Shovel down, but his owner would hear nothing of it. She was just as mean as he was. Tarny Brimwood, it was rumored, had killed a couple of men: men who loved her, bothered her and demanded she love them in return. Both of these men were found on a manure pile with a pitchfork in their back and a boot print on their face. Tarny became a suspect because, after each murder, she showed up wearing new boots, leading police to believe her old boots’ prints would be her undoing. Tarny scoffed at this, saying she had donated her old boots to the Salvation Army for the tax write-off. The police searched every Salvation Army Thrift Store within a 100-mile radius. The boots were never found and Tarny was released from custody. Tarny’s stud service flourished and she was elected Mayor of Dusty Trail, New Mexico.
Milky Way’s mama was a piece of work too. She was gigantic for a Gurnsey. Almost 6 feet to the shoulder! Her horns were beautifully polished and she was brushed at least twice a day, and gave at least 25 gallons of milk per day. Her udders looked like baseball bats and she had to have a specially made milker. Her stall was double-wide. Billy Bindlehoof was the only person she allowed in it. He was a kind young man who was good with animals. One day, the milking barn manager yelled at Billy for leaving a pitchfork out on the floor. Milky Way’s mother went crazy, and nobody yelled at Billy ever again.
I arrived at the rodeo venue and made sure I was riding Milky Way—the Manager said “Righty” and I got prepared. I was scared shitless, given Milky Way’s lineage and the stories I had heard about her. I heard she had once thrown a man 15 feet in the air, and that she had once thrown man so hard his hand was torn off at the wrist.
I resined my hands and jeans and mounted Milky Way in the chute. The chute opened and Milky Way meandered out like she was looking for grass. Then, she stopped and stood there and the crowd booed. I kicked her and punched her between the ears. She didn’t move. The time-horn went off and I jumped to the ground. She licked my face like dog and then knocked me down and stood on my chest. The clowns came at her with their cattle prods and got her off me. I found out at the hospital that I had two cracked ribs.
My cowboy days are over, but I’ve taken up with Tarny. She’s a little bossy, but beyond that, she’s the best girlfriend I’ve ever had. We each have a mechanical bull set up in the living room. We laughingly call them our “Cowboy Treadmills.” We love watching “Roy Rogers and Dale Evans” reruns and eating Tex-Mex food. I’m learning cowboy rope twirling tricks from a school on the internet. It is purely for personal growth. For money, I’m working with Tarny to make our own brand of Mezcal. We’re naming it “Blond Snake” after Tarny’s mother.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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