The pinnacle of “redneck” was thought to have been established some years ago when a flock of imbibing cowboys, while sitting around telling lies, spotted a skunk waddling across the yard.
What followed has often been referred to as “The Shoot Out at Cedar Hills.” Time has ripened the story as the shooter’s point of view spun his deed from infamy to something suggestively close to a New Mexico historical moment.

“This rotten skunk was threatening the household of women,” the shooter explained. “And I, as a duty-bound agent of the law, was dispatched to the scene. I found the culprit who I believed to be cocked and locked, so in return I took a defensive position, fired and saw a dangerous threat fall. However, the bullet did also penetrate the home of the women folk.” (caveat – “agent of the law” is actually “insurance agent”)
Translation: He missed the skunk, hit the house and has never lived it down. His story has been told and retold and according to the law of legends, after the fifth telling it became fact.

Meanwhile back at Cedar Hills, a recent occurrence has likely raised the bar for “redneck” antics. The head cowboy was awakened at dawn by the sound of gunfire. Not a foreign noise to him but a little uncommon in the world of today.

He jumped from his bed, threw on his pants and boots and in the same motion, grabbed his pistol and headed to the front door. There he found his son-in-law Brett and his guest, an old friend named Boone, “shooting up the place.”

Boone had arrived from out of state a couple days earlier for a visit. In a longstanding game of ornery tricks between Boone and the cowboy, it was decided that it would be most humorous to have Boone stay in the guest room instead of some of the other cabin options available.

The “funny” was because outside this guest room is a big pine tree that two of the resident roosters called home. Their job, as they saw it, was to wake the entire place up at 4-5 a.m. with the sounds one would expect from a rooster. In duo, it was deafening.

The first morning, those in on the plan waited expectantly for the fallout, but Boone said nothing. The second morning was a different story.

Brett was about to get in the shower and with a glance out the window, he sees Boone coming out the door wearing his boots, hat, bathrobe and a pistol in his hand. Brett, thinking there is trouble, throws on a towel, slips into his shoes and grabs his shotgun.

Boone greets Brett with a simple statement. “Those damn roosters have woke me up for the last time.”
Brett sees no problem with the plan and the shooting commenced. Although the head cowboy was late to the party, he was glad his daughter thought to snap a photo of the moment. It gives the story complete credibility and laughability. Or as he said, if it didn’t happen that way, it should have.

The guest room at Cedar Hills is now very quiet in the mornings.