About Cindy K Roberts

In hopes of reducing stress in my life, I took a shot at Cowboy Mounted Shooting, but the competitive nature of the sport

enticed our club members into aggression. . . which shifted the public dinner meetings into a nighttime brawl, similar to that seen in a Wild West show. This caused our mounted shooters to be thrown out of the finer restaurants where we held our meetings. Giving up on finding new places to meet and wanting to lower our cholesterol, we decided to dissolve the club. To this day, there are members still at large, forced to be drifters; they stay on the move, riding fast horses.

In 2002, Rawhide pretended she had arthritis and I began looking for another mount. After several equine purchases and trading horses, a paint horse named "Cowboy" loped into my life. Things haven’t been the same since, especially my checking account. In the meantime, Rawhide was caught at her game of faking "arthritis"; she developed the passion of galloping in the pasture with her new buddies and has never looked back. Rawhide now lives on the East Coast with an adoring family that is forgiving of her shenanigans. The family called me a couple of years ago to tell me it was time for Rawhide to cross the rainbow bridge. I understood and cried all the same; mules are so special and the heart never mends when you lose an equine friend.

Now that Cowboy the Paint Horse is taking up space in my life, I feel I must work with him. He is good by horse standards but like his owner, he's immature for his age. He can whip a snarling coyote, but he can't stare down the neighbor's dog. I worked at saving his image and encouraged him to live up to his potential by taking him out west. Today, Cowboy's large ego, good looks, and debonair-style, give him enough confidence for him to believe that someday he will have his own TV talk show. Cowboy's own special talents have been roped in by a couple living in Cody, Wyoming. They had to have him, and it was Christmas.

Older, wiser, and having a flair for adventure along with a fascination for chiggers, I spent time with my bay mule, "Diablo" (yes he has a dark side) on the

trail in the Bighorn Mountains and The Rocky Mountains. When I am bored, I practice voodoo on barn pigeons and torture horse flies to fuel my inner strength. Sometimes when riding, I land on the ground to remind myself to pay better attention next time.

I've ridden a lot of rough mules that inspired me to write of my adventures; some stayed a long while and others stayed a short time, especially if they didn't apply themselves. Then Cabo came into my life. Cabo Wabo put a whole new meaning in the term, "Hormone Rage"; after being bitten, kicked, thrown, and trampled on, I've learned to keep my eyes open wide all the time while bridging my reins. This mule is a hoot; now I think she likes me, or is it the margaritas? (wink.)

My secret life, as an experienced, proven bartender, and with a love for baking, enticed me to write my second cookbook The Rhinestone Cowgirl Cookbook. And a third, The Desperados Cookbook & Guide To Common Sense. Recipes that feature alcohol as the main ingredient. Two cookie intoxications and one accidental fire later, my attorney advised me to place a warning label inside the book along with a liquor/liqueur substitution page. Now, successful book sales prove that I am not a complete failure and an embarrassment to my family and friends.

Bartending was fun and hard work however I kept a day job to have health insurance; I worked for a circuit judge, who had a lot of patience. A professional-looking clerk with a nervous twitch during the day, I mostly dropped file folders on the floor and ran for coffee; at night I turned into a bartender-superhero who dressed like the captivating cocktail superwoman with the ultimate cleavage. This photo gets smaller as I age. ------->

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Everything you need to know about Cindy K. Roberts - This page has been grouch tested.
"Rebellious to this day because her parents insisted she adjust to kindergarten and attend school, little Cindy shows her independence by riding her pony with other kindergarten outlaws."
My grandfather, Lieutenant Wilton Willmann served in the U.S. Cavalry (circa 1924) he was a sharpshooter, a muleskinner, and he loved his whiskey. He was rough around the edges, and it was expected to learn how to shoot and ride in our family; that began my obsession with centering my life around cowboy heroes and equine events. My countless hours spent in the saddle, watching afternoon episodes of Bonanza, and being drawn to flashy denim, like Dolly, pretty much describes my childhood... that and my lack of common sense. A confused child with no direction, I turned to horses and mules for knowledge and wisdom. [Today, I am still dazed.] The other stuff is boring and wouldn’t interest you, so we’ll move on to the day back in 1985 when I was drawn to a lawless mule with three 6's carved on her head, named, Rawhide. The mule took possession of my soul and that is when I learned the divine secret about the hybrid code. Teaching me everything about mules and the true meaning of life; Rawhide has opened the door to my future and many corral gates for her buddies. At times, we experienced communication problems, so I attended The Meredeth Manor Equine College, worked with clinicians, and watched boring horse training videos. Rawhide’s teachings gave me a deep understanding of the mules that received ineffective or harsh training from novice trainers; in other words, the mules needed my help. I produced The Behavior & Training of the Saddle Mule video; after the film and winning 3 grand championships, Rawhide‘s stardom, increased which prompted many photo opportunities. On bad hair days, it is sometimes hard to convince horse owners that just a short time ago Rawhide was a pinup girl with her own poster sales; Rawhide had her own line of picnic baskets, t-shirts, and note cards that were sold online. Rawhide has already learned that the competition is getting younger; being a centerfold mule does have its ups and downs. I started showing my ass, in 1987; that is when Rawhide’s true show career began. Rawhide took 5th place out of 120 horses at the Bridle Spur Hunter Pace. That mule is used to being snubbed by the general public but now believes she is due to her hard-earned celebrity status. After being slighted by hoity-toity show riders, Rawhide decided that taking dressage lessons while riding under the well-renowned Grand Prix instructor Frank Grelo, would be the logical thing to do. However, Frank thought differently about the matter. Co-hosting and producing the radio show “Horse Sense” unbridled my desire to learn more about professionals in the equine industry. This enabled me to meet equine greats such as Monty Roberts, Pat Parelli, and trick horse trainer, Carole Fletcher as well as many others. Having this experience, I became a natural to host and produce Mule Talk the podcast about mules.
In hopes of reducing stress in my life, I took a shot at Cowboy Mounted Shooting, but the competitive nature of the sport enticed our club members into aggression. . . which shifted the public dinner meetings into a nighttime brawl, similar to that seen in a Wild West show. This caused our mounted shooters to be thrown out of the finer restaurants where we held our meetings. Giving up on finding new places to meet and wanting to lower our cholesterol, we decided to dissolve the club. To this day, there are members still at large, forced to be drifters; they stay on the move, riding fast horses. In 2002, Rawhide pretended she had arthritis and I began looking for another mount. After several equine purchases and trading horses, a paint horse named "Cowboy" loped into my life. Things haven’t been the same since, especially my checking account. In the meantime, Rawhide was caught at her game of faking "arthritis"; she developed the passion of galloping in the pasture with her new buddies and has never looked back. Rawhide now lives on the East Coast with an adoring family that is forgiving of her shenanigans. The family called me a couple of years ago to tell me it was time for Rawhide to cross the rainbow bridge. I understood and cried all the same; mules are so special and the heart never mends when you lose an equine friend. Now that Cowboy the Paint Horse is taking up space in my life, I feel I must work with him. He is good by horse standards but like his owner, he's immature for his age. He can whip a snarling coyote, but he can't stare down the neighbor's dog. I worked at saving his image and encouraged him to live up to his potential by taking him out west. Today, Cowboy's large ego, good looks, and debonair-style, give him enough confidence for him to believe that someday he will have his own TV talk show. Cowboy's own special talents have been roped in by a couple living in Cody, Wyoming. They had to have him, and it was Christmas. Older, wiser, and having a flair for adventure along with a fascination for chiggers, I spent time with my bay mule, "Diablo" (yes he has a dark side) on the trail in the Bighorn Mountains and The Rocky Mountains. When I am bored, I practice voodoo on barn pigeons and torture horse flies to fuel my inner strength. Sometimes when riding, I land on the ground to remind myself to pay better attention next time. I've ridden a lot of rough mules that inspired me to write of my adventures; some stayed a long while and others stayed a short time, especially if they didn't apply themselves. Then Cabo came into my life. Cabo Wabo put a whole new meaning in the term, "Hormone Rage"; after being bitten, kicked, thrown, and trampled on, I've learned to keep my eyes open wide all the time while bridging my reins. This mule is a hoot; now I think she likes me, or is it the margaritas? (wink.) My secret life, as an experienced, proven bartender, and with a love for baking, enticed me to write my second cookbook The Rhinestone Cowgirl Cookbook. And a third, The Desperados Cookbook & Guide To Common Sense. Recipes that feature alcohol as the main ingredient. Two cookie intoxications and one accidental fire later, my attorney advised me to place a warning label inside the book along with a liquor/liqueur substitution page. Now, successful book sales prove that I am not a complete failure and an embarrassment to my family and friends. Bartending was fun and hard work however I kept a day job to have health insurance; I worked for a circuit judge, who had a lot of patience. A professional-looking clerk with a nervous twitch during the day, I mostly dropped file folders on the floor and ran for coffee; at night I turned into a bartender-superhero who dressed like the captivating cocktail superwoman with the ultimate cleavage. This photo gets smaller as I age. ------->
(Meet my family.) This should explain my idiosyncrasies.			Feelin' kinda silly with "Pistol Pat" at the Frontier Days Rodeo, Cheyenne.
Of course, between myself, Debra, and Caren, we sold a lot of Budweiser. When the bar owner paid the electric bill, we had lights, a jukebox, and cold beer. During the winter on a slow night at the bar, I developed Every Cowboy's Dream website; with the help of a couple of cute guys, who had never seen a horse much less a pair of jingle bob spurs, other than dream about them. Clearly, that website was heading for the gutter, so I took the reins back into my own hands, burned Every Cowboy's Dream, and left for Mexico to think things over. While spending time with Juan Manuel Padilla, riding through downtown Mexico on the handlebars of his bicycle; I had time to think. Two enchiladas and three margaritas later, I developed a chest cold and the now-successful Every Cowgirl's Dream (www.everycowgirlsdream.com). I returned to the United States and left both my jobs to focus on my website, Every Cowgirl's Dream. Between corporate meetings on horseback, I publish my mule training books that contain my wisdom with that entertaining humor and write about my true mule tales of adventure and all the strange encounters while trail-riding mules and donkeys. Successful book sales allow me to fight winter hysteria, write amusing articles, and watch Dog The Bounty Hunter while cleaning my guns and testing new remedies for dry skin.
Now, published in several equine publications along with a high-fiber diet, I stay active and move in different directions. In search of adventure, I chase after western stars on and off the prairie to feature in my entertaining articles that are offered for publication.
In need of a dance partner, I thought it best to find a husband. Having no luck with eBay, I went to a sale barn and traded for a guy with great athletic conformation, high spirit, and brains. We had a simmering cowboy wedding ceremony with a herd of wild horse flies, drunken relatives, and cowboy saddle pals to wish us the best. Heat exhaustion persuaded us to cool things down by celebrating our honeymoon in New Orleans. Days later, Hurricane Katrina struck and we were deserted in our hotel room in the French Quarter, I then realized the haltered one is lacking in ground manners. Out of estrogen, Walgreens was boarded up for the storm, I decided that now was the time to bust out. By the grace of God and forcing our will onto a walrus-size liquor salesman with a weak heart and bad breath, we piled into his luxury SUV while the streets were in disarray. There were six of us: Uncle Lou the sweaty liquor salesman was at the wheel, a new guy named Joe suffering from a work disability, a Sharon Stone-look-a-like, a Canadian lawyer DWI ticket fixer, and us the knucklehead newlyweds aka, Perry Mason and The Rhinestone Cowgirl. Uncle Louie, doing 110 m.p.h. down the back roads to get to the Interstate while swerving around alligators. At this point, I focused on keeping myself balanced as the group voted I should take the seat behind Uncle Louie, propped on top of a box of Southern Comfort. This was an unbelievably long, adventure movie with no popcorn. Now, I will share this: I thank my lucky stars that we made it out of a city that faced horrible destruction from the tropical storm Katrina. Every person that went through the terrible ordeal has a different story. I am grateful for mine because my life is very different now . . . I know that I am blessed.
After a summer in the saddle, testing the new Whoa Mule bridles, I now write entertaining articles and books about mules; and why I think they should run this country. I took up with the Desperados of the Wagon's West Expedition; riding with descendants of notorious outlaws, horse thieves, Texas Rangers, and soiled doves of the Wild West. Holed up at the N Bar Ranch in the Gila Mountain Wilderness, I wrote their story. My life path is my own, God has enabled me to share my experiences with you so that you may learn and benefit in making better life choices for you and your mules. Never waste a precious minute of your life, and when in doubt, let your mule do the thinking.
Remember, a lady with a mule has more fun. (Really!)			Thanks for stopping in and putting up with me... I'd love to hear from you, Cindy K. Roberts P.S. I play the piano

Everything you need to know about Cindy K. Roberts - This page has been grouch tested.

Mule Talk the podcast about mules.