With rainy weather on the horizon in Oklahoma City, Leah and I opted for indoor entertainment, which brought us to the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, home to the most extensive collection of art and artifacts of American West and American Indian culture. With more than 28,000 pieces in its collection, The National Cowboy Museum is an obvious choice for history buffs and art aficionados.

But not for Leah…

“I can’t believe we’re here, she lamented. “This is so ‘not me’.”

“You’re kidding me. We’re talking about a place with the largest barbed wire collection in the world! More than 8,000 different kinds.” I persuaded.

“Barbed wire isn’t really my thing,” she confessed.

“Then how about the turn-of-the-century western town that’s been recreated indoors?” I implored.

“Certainly, you’d be interested in the structures along the simulated street that have been painstakingly rendered according to scale and design?” I wondered.

“This town may even be set up for some shopping,” I offered as an inducement.

“I’ll have to see about that when I get there,” she proposed.

“What about their Frederic Remington collection? I read that there’s an entire gallery devoted to his work,” I advertised…

“There are small bronzes…

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and large bronzes…

and paintings, too,” I hyped.

“That might be interesting,” Leah affirmed, warming up to the idea.

“Maybe we can stroll around the garden behind the museum,” I suggested.

“I believe the outdoor space might be as big as the museum galleries…

and we can pay homage to Buffalo Bill while we’re in the gardens,” I encouraged.

“That’s a possibility,” Leah conceded.

“We could also visit the Western Performers Gallery,” I recommended…

“Y’know, we’ll have a look around at all the memorabilia from our TV star cowboys,

and movie star cowboys,” I proposed.

“That could be fun,” Leah predicted.

“And let’s not overlook the western art created by all the great masters and contemporary artists,” I urged.

“Okay, okay! We may as well go through the place since we’re already here,” Leah admitted.

“Finally! So how about a photo of you in front of the wagon?” I suggested.

“Absolutely not!” she insisted.

Once through the entry vestibule, it was difficult to ignore the immensity of the space. Occupying a floor-to-ceiling, window-lit, cul-de-sac at the far end stood the plaster cast of End of the Trail, James Earle Fraser’s iconic 1894 image of a bowed Native American…

and his weary horse, symbolizing the defeat and subjugation of a people driven from their native lands.

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Leah remarked.

Turning the corner, we were met by an impressive stagecoach…and I could see Leah’s layers of resistance slowly fading.

We wandered past Abraham Lincoln,

and Ronald Reagan…

through rodeo trophy rooms, the Native American galleries, the Gallery of Fine American Firearms, the American Cowboy Gallery, and more…

and determined that this was two hours definitely well spent.

As we were leaving, I coaxed Leah once more, “Now can I get a picture of you by the wagon?”