Windy was at it again the other day … Helping Day. 

There aren’t an awful lot of things a semi-retired half stoved-up cowboy and camp cook can contribute to make his community a better place. With Windy Wilson, it sure as sugar wasn’t money. He couldn’t put a down payment on a free lunch. So, he helped someone, about once a week, depending on weather.

Part of the fun of it was not saying anything to his vic … er, recipient of his largesse, that is. Just go do something nice for a day.

Today, the lucky recipient of his Herculean labors was old Dan Gurule. Windy knew through the grapevine that he hadn’t been well, so he drove over to Dan’s place and shoveled the sidewalk and his porch steps free of snow. When he finished, Windy threw the snow shovel in his pickup and prepared to leave.

No sign of Dan, which was unusual, because there was almost always a cup of coffee for Windy on Helping Day. He drove down to the Mule Barn, waved an empty cup at Loretta and turned to the guys.

“Wellsir, went over to Dan Gurule’s house, boys,” Windy said. “You know, did a little snow shovelin’.”

“Helping Day, Windy?”

“Right you are, Doc. Never did see ol’ Dan, though. Musta been asleep.”

The guys looked at each other. “Windy,” said Doc, “Dan passed away last week.”

Windy shook his head. “Sorry to hear ‘bout that. Prolly why I didn’t exasperate a cup of coffee off him today.”