Dispatch from Marshal Moose

There is hope. After a whole day of plodding along trails in The Big Thicket and not seeing a single horse or long horn steer anywhere I was back at the campsite feeling sad. But you can’t really keep a Moose down even if I was not going to get a hat so I walked around the camping area. Don’t think big rocks and a bed roll with someone playing the harmonica while the fire dies down, no this is fancy camping in land yachts and a few pill boxes like ours. Anyway I was being my normal friendly helpful self bringing cheer to all (ED NOTE: Sheesh, enough already) and then I spotted him. He was sitting by the campfire fire (we never have a campfire) with his fancy boots (we have no fancy boots) and cowboy hat. A really neat hat! Just like I need, except I need a white one cause I am The Marshal. Jimmy was not from here but he was from Texas - I knew it, there had to be the real Texas somewhere. He has a huge ranch and ranch hands and hay and stuff. Wow. He said he was three hours away. I am only three hours from the real Texas. Now what can I do to convince the Driver to go three hours away. I need to work on that, so no more scribing tonight, must plan for the Great Texas Get-a-Way.