Cowgirl Melinda Tries Aromatherapy

I'm sorry to report that our heroine Cowgirl Melinda was feeling out of sorts.  Now, she tried the usual patent medicines found around the bunkhouse, but found that they did little to make her feel better, just more groggier.  The various pills and elixirs that the cowhands had around the stable or bunkhouse didn't do anything, so she went into Buffalo to find a friendly saloon; but time spent there did not make her feel better, either.

She visited a doctor, and he ran some tests.  The results were inconclusive: the doctor told her to give up drinking and get more exercise.

"Doctor, I'm a cowgirl.  I get more exercise before breakfast than most people have all day.  Breakfast is at six A.M."

"Okay, then get more rest.  And eat less red meat, no pork sausages, no alcohol, and only one cup of joe!"

That convienced Melinda that she needed to go the alternative medicine route.  She visited a chiropractor, and came out of it all stove up and really out of sorts.  It took a full bottle of horse linement to bring her around!  So Melinda managed to combine grogginess and being achy.

So she visited a homeopath.  She was hesitant, because she didn't feel gay, you know; but was really ready to accept herself if she was.  Homeopathy resulted in her producing very expensive urine and spending unusual amounts of time in the brush.

So in desperation Cowgirl Melinda found out about aromatherapy while visiting an odd supermarket in  an unnamed and scary big city.  The contents of the containers smelled good, that was for sure.

She found one that was advertised "helps promote restoring female balance."  This sounded promising, as she was unequivocally female; and she was out of sorts for sure.  Maybe this would work, she thought.  "I just need to get myself balanced or aligned."

So she bought a large container, and used it as bath salts as per the directions while the other cowhands were off in town at the saloon.  (Cowgirl Melinda was very modest; none of that nude bathing for her in front of the others in the wshtub.)   It felt good, and smelled good.

The next day, her bunkhouse mates made fun of her, commenting that she smelled like a Cheyenne cat house!  The maker of that rude remark got his ears boxed by Melinda; and went around all day out of sorts.

Melinda then decided that the aromatherapy she needed was from cows and her favorite:

However, she did get a pedicure and pink nail polish as her secret under her riding boots.