There are a couple of parodies of Kipling's poem "The Ladies" that have not made this list yet.

Here is the first:

I LEARNED ABOUT HORSES FROM HIM
by George B. German (modeled on Kipling's The Ladies)

'Twas on the Horse Shoe in old Arizona
That I rode my first bucking outlaw.
He could throw any man on the rancho,
And how that caballo could paw.
Well, I lays down my Spanish guitaro,
It was money I needed, by jim.
I hoists myself into the saddle,
And I learned about horses from him.

Then I trails to a ranch in the rimrock,
Where broncos are thicker than men.
There was one needed tamin' right badly.
I needed a job there and then.
So I curls up my maguey so neatly,
And I hangs my old pack on a limb.
Then I slips through the bars quite discreetly,
And I learned about horses from him.

Next I wanders down into Sonora,
Where horses are horses, you bet.
There was good ones, had ones, and tough ones,
And some of them darned hard to get.
A senorita wanted one for a plaything,
A black filled with hall to the brim.
She begs me with a sweet little smile-o,
And I learned about horses from him.

Then I drifts on up into Texas,
Where horses are wild, rough, and game,
And I says to the pinto I'm ridin',
"I'll get me a good one to tame."
So I takes to the hills and the canyons,
And I waits till I'm haggard and grim.
Then my loop settles down on a picture,
And I learned about horses from him.

Well, I rides up into Wyoming,
For I'd heard of a bad one called Bear,
And I heard they were offering money
To the guy that got on and stayed there.
Well, I found him, a bleary-eyed loco,
With ears that were pointed and thin.
And from the time I stepped in his middle
I learned about horses from him.

Then I stopped in Cheyenne for the rodeo.
To win me some money I tried.
A horse you all know, name was Steamboat,
That's the bugger I drew for to ride.
Now, something says, "Mister, you're crazy!"
But my bankroll says, "Don't you give in!"
Three jumps from the time the gates opened
I'd learned about horses from him.

Now, I've heard a lot about horses,
And I've rode 'em both large and small.
Sometimes I got on and I stayed there,
Sometimes what a hell of a fall!
But they's one horse I never have ridden,
It's Conscience they call it, by grim.
But I reckon when we have the last roundup
I'll learn about that horse from Him.