The Roundup Gang

There once was a boy who had a few favorite toys who leaped straight from of a movie. They were part of a group, a Roundup Gang they were called. A space ranger, a sheriff, sometimes a cowgirl, too, and their trusty kid keeping them in tow. They were friends for years.

Then one day, a tragic event ensued. The space ranger lost his head.

We tried to affix it back together with super glue, even duct tape a time or two. His top just wouldn’t adhere. Still, every now and then, the parts are handed off for another attempt to please make him whole again. But it isn’t any use.

It goes to show no matter how loved, a boy can be rough with his toys.

Sooner or later it was bound to occur when another limb would fall. This time, the boy ran in with the sheriff’s boot in his hand. It’s hard to chase down bad guys with only one pad, so we tried in vain to attach him again. Super glue, duct tape, the usual tools. But it wasn’t any use.

The boy didn’t mind, he didn’t care. He might have whined momentarily, wishing them the way they were. But a friend is still a friend, after all.

A space ranger without a head, a sheriff without his foot, each dirty with age and fingers chewed. The same boy and his favorite toys. Still the familiar Roundup Gang. Just not nearly as new.