We were gearing up for our first stint in Europe, and everyone was getting more excited each day. I couldn’t wait to take the gang to all my favorite spots. However, the morning before our departure, Bill came into my trailer and dropped a bombshell on me.

“Goose, there’s no easy way to put this,” he said. “The other performers and I have been talking, and we don’t think it’s a good idea that you join us in Europe.”

“Bill, what do you mean? Lester and I are one of the best acts you’ve got!” I said.

“It’s too much of a liability, Goose,” he said. “Shooting bottles off the heads of children volunteers may be okay out here in the Wild West, but that’s not going to fly in Europe.”

“Is this about that mishap in Kansas? Because you know my aim has improved so much since then!” I said.

“It’s not just the act, Goose,” Bill said. “We’re all getting a little tired of Lester. He’s demanding, rude to the fans, eats all the food, and we all know he’s not easy to travel with.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve been let go from a gig, and it won’t be the last. Obviously, I was disappointed, but there was no use in fighting it. A good performer knows when it’s time to take a bow.

“I guess this is good-bye, then,” I said. “Take care of yourself, Bill. Please write to us when you reach the 1889 World’s Fair.”

“We will, Goose,” Bill said. “And thanks for supplying us with all those empty bottles—you’ve got the liver of an ox.”

Lester and I packed up our things and were gone by the afternoon. Can you believe out of all the gun-happy cowboys in Bill’s circus, I was the liability? That’s a first.

Our departure is probably for the best, though. I’m not sure how much longer Lester and I will stay in the Wild West. I’ve got dust in places I didn’t know I had. If only my friend Jesse James was still around, we could start up a Wild West show of our own.