Calgary, AB: To be honest, I haven’t been that busy this week. The odd thing is, figuring out what to post each day hasn’t been as easy as it should be. I like to call Everything Cowboy a website when I tell people about it. In all reality I guess I should come to terms with it and call it a blog. Seems like everyone’s doing it. Haha.

I had no idea where this site would go when I first started it. I’m amazed at where it’s come today. It’s awesome to think about where it might go in the next year too after how great 2012 has already been.

It’s been too long since I’ve thanked everyone for the support of this site and all it includes. I hope it’s helped out a ton of people in a ton of ways. I hope it does that for many more and keeps doing more. Thanks a ton for being a part of it and letting me tell your stories too.

As for this blogging thing, I thought I might as well just write today to get some ideas going. I work to keep my own opinion out of it most of the time to make it more of a website, but that’s getting old. I’ll still keep that up for the major stories and the ones I think need to stay kind of half serious, but I might end up doing more free writing.

I’d like to hear more of your stories in that same manner too. What’s your best cowboy story? From the road, from travelling, in your home, on your ranch, in the city, at school, at work, with your family (in-laws or outlaws) and wherever and everywhere else that hilarious things happen. If you’ve got one you’d like to share, send it to me at

This one is mine for this week as it’s the one that made me want to write this matter today.

“You can’t come here. You’re homeless.”

Some of you may have already heard this one, if you have, then I’d say it’s your turn to tell the next story.

About a year ago from last week, I was headed down to California for a couple of courses since I opted out of going back to school for the fall in Las Vegas. I had enough stuff in my car to be gone for any real amount of time and was by myself. It was the first time I think I’d ever crossed the border by land by myself but I didn’t realize it at the time luckily to be worried about it.

I pulled up to the window sometime in the morning as I stayed in Lethbridge that night, welcomed, well not really welcomed by the officer behind the window. I got the usual “where are you going” and “what for” along with “when you will be back.” Apparently with my answers of: “California and Nevada via maybe Helena, MT tonight or Logan, UT to stay with friends weren’t quite good enough” The real bad one was when I answered that “I didn’t really know” when I would be headed back to Canada.

My passports did not pass “go” and collect any prizes for a quick entry to the United States.

“Just pull around the corner there and come inside for a bit, Sir” was what he said. So I did, and proceeded to pace around the waiting room like I was locked up in some sort of prison and thinking I’d never get out. Should I maybe make a run for it and go home? Or am I in trouble? Endless possibilities ran through my mind as I tried to strike up some small talk with the others as they awaited their fate.

My name was finally called about an hour later.

“Mr. William Stovin” the moustache wearing fellow said. (William is my name on paper for those of you who don’t know)

The funny part about this man calling my name was that after waiting around for an hour, he was the one I was hoping I’d get to talk to because he seemed nicer than the lady in there from the other conversations I hadn’t helped to overhear.

Boy was I wrong.

I got the same questions from him and he got even more unimpressed than the other guard at the drive up window with my answers. Then it happened. He asked me where I “lived.” I then proceeded to tell him I’d been staying where I’d been working but my parents still lived in Drayton Valley. I’d been to school here and there but never anywhere for a very long time in the past few hectic years of school in New Mexico and Nevada.

What he said next, I could hardly believe. “You’re homeless, Sir. We can’t let you into our country as you might end up staying and being a burden to our economy.”

At first I was rather mad about the whole thing since he said that he thought I’d be a burden. Or course I could take care of myself and I stated back that I really liked Canada and had actually come back here as I wanted to be with my friends and family after being away for the past three years in his country for school. It wasn’t that I didn’t like being there but that I liked being at home that much more after being gone for a while.

Then it got kind of funny. How about the story I had on my hands here. In all reality, I had more homes than any one average person. Shoot I had like ten friends I was going to stay with all over the entire west half of the United States for the next three weeks. I could count on one hand how many hotel rooms I’d bought in the last year.

“How do I know you’ll be able to support yourself while you’re here?” Followed up with “What do you do for a living.” The officer asked. “Do you have any thing on paper that could prove any of this like a utility bill or rent receipt?”

I quickly replied by saying “Heck no I don’t want any bills yet!” Which at the time, he didn’t find too funny. Luckily I had a recent deposit slip or two with me from the very company I started around this site that I had just told him about along with my other various jobs he looked skeptical about.

He went back to his computer for another 15 minutes or so and I’m thinking he checked me out to see that this website really did exist and I wasn’t trying to “pull the wool over his eyes” as my Dad, Garry “Stovey” Stovin would say.

To top it all off, little did either of us know at the time that on my way back through I’d be meeting with a border guard from each country to be interviewed to get my Nexus border crossing card.

For the final word, the border officer handed me back my passport and papers and said. “I’ll trust you this time.” He left me with “You’ve actually got a pretty good thing going it looks like.”



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