I have misplaced my camera. I don’t think it’s actually lost, not like my friend who left her’s on the wheel well of the horse trailer and drove off. I fear her’s is gone for good.
It’s a shame, because yesterday I wished I would have had it. Some young fellows come to help us pull bulls and one of them is awful pretty to watch. Maybe he is good looking too but I mean the way he handled his horse, his rope, and the bulls.
Two of the boys are sons of ranchers and team ropers who haven’t quite seen the light yet. But this other boy . . . There is something different about the working cowboy who has nothing but his horse, his saddle, maybe a good dog, his pickup truck. Their satisfaction doesn’t come in the owning but in the caring for cows. You see it in the very way the move and talk even before they get near a cow.
It was quite the scene watching these 3 boys. The young cowboy didn’t cave into all the fufurah and pressure to do it different. He just did it right. I admit, to my shame, that I am the let’s-hurry-and-get-it-done-before-it-kills-us type. I lack the quiet confidence I admired so much in this 19 year old boy. It just did my heart good to be able to watch him.
And 6 of them Charolais, all tucked away safe in the bull pasture, a good days work in spite of a sore wing. Thanks everyone, the sympathy is much appreciated.
My internet has been excruciatingly slow lately, thus no posts, but today I was looking for a little sympathy, or a lot, (not much around here) for my boohoo booboo.
I am almost too embassed to tell anyone how I hurt my arm, yes, it was on a quad (hanging my head in shame). I hate the darn thing even more now. The board bought my cowboy one for fencing and such and it seemed like it might work to drive out to where the horses were and bring them up for work a couple of days ago.
I slipped a couple of halters over my arm, climbed on, but when the darn thing started moving it caught some part of a halter under the wheel (you can tell I bad with machinery of any kind) whipped my arm back and tugged the halters off my arm. Ooch!
I felt like it was broke but having bones of steel I figured probably not, but still, I went to ER (a somewhat regular occurance for us) only to be kept waiting ahead of a lot of really sick folks so I left, came back home, and took one of my cowboy’s nice painkillers. Well the fuss that caused so I had to go back and get it xrayed and sure enough nothing broke. Luckily Crystal was here to take me (Thanks C)
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt bad (even with the painkillers) and I still have to help pull those dang bulls (this is the last week before they have to be out). This stupidity and my daughter spraining both wrists and me helping her earlier this week has put us way behind. Bleck!.
So I know it’s a stretch for a cowgirl in a quad mishap (stupid, stupid, stupid) but if anyone feels sorry for me at all . . . I am looking for any sympathy I can get. I’ll need it when I get off my horse today for sure.
The neighbor who has this cute little hunting cabin that we ride by sometimes called today and we met him by this cabin. Our cows got mixed up. Well, some of ours got into his place and his bull got into ours.
but we got it all sorted out and it wasn’t nearly as bad as my cowboy first thought it was going to be.
The neighbor was very apologetic about his bull and very friendly. Everyone has been extra nice to us lately. It’s good but we kinda wonder what’s going on that we don’t know about.
It’s hard moving into a rural community as strangers. Everyone has usually known each other since childhood, their own or at least their kid’s childhood. Then here we come, trying to fit in. Maybe after 6 years, folks are just getting used to us being around. We try to get along with all 16 neighbors (surrounding the 40,000 acres we take care of) but animals sometimes don’t respect fences and mix ups occur. But today was an OK mixup, thank Heavens.
And I quote Shirley: “Nice when the bulls cooperate. When they don’t, that’s when cowboys get creative.”
By now everyone knows how I feel about Charolais bulls, right? This one gimpy guy wouldn’t load in the trailer
and so. . .
We roped a back leg, tied it to the bottom of a fence post at the dugout then roped a front leg and tied it to a fence post the other direction. After that we went and got the trailer backed it up to his head end. We eventually got ropes on both front legs ( I got a little excited during that part since I was on foot and I have to admit since last year’s fiasco I’m pretty nervous around Charolais bulls when I’m not on a fast horse) and convinced him to get on the trailer.
I don’t know why all the foofurah, they are always so glad when we drop them off in the bull pasture by the oiler and salt.
Today was a day for the mysteries noticed while doing cow/bull stuff.
What do you think of this? Notice any difference between one side of the fence and the other?
Looking South. Note the white things on the west side of the fence.
The Mystery is why on one side of the fence, and none on the other. Plants don’t generally notice barbwire boundaries. It was just strange. Both fields we manage, neither have been stressed in the 6 years we have been here, and why do they stop right at the fence line? Curiouser and curiouser.
Now, What do you make of this?
I’ll take you in a little closer.
Yup, bees. When we drove by I though “what in the world?” I called some folks who keep bees to see if they could come rescue these girls. Poor things, I think one of the storms might have displaced them. They are on a post just south of the house right next to all the road construction they are doing past our place. I love honey (bee slobers) so I’m all for helping them out.
Lots of folks think the prairie is just bare and plain but. . .
that’s so not true.
It’s amazing how everyday is the same but different. It’s all about cows, mostly, moving cows, treating cows, salting cows, moving and filling oilers for cows, adding and subtracting bulls for cows, taking care of the grass for cows, fixing fence for cows. And yet every day is different, weather, pasture, herd, season, there is so many variables and it makes for a hard, rich, and rewarding life.
Moved the Simmental herd, well part of it. 635 pairs is a lot for two people, especially when they have never been in the field they are in or the one they are moving too so it has turned into a 2 or 3 day move.
Calves always ball up in this corner. We need to fix it better, one more cow job (*sigh*)
Buddy was tired then and he still had bulls to load.
That one was easy.
This one not so much.
Had to break out the convincer for this one.
Then the rotter would go right to the back of the trailer and then was to big of a chicken to get in with the other bull in the front so we had to move the trailer to along a fenceline.
I was a little chocked that this huge house was coming down the road just as we were coming to the moved stock trailer again. But luckily it didn’t seem to bother the bull and after a lot of convincing from the both of us we finally got him loaded and hauled down south to the Bull Pasture.
All done before the rain.
Every year it happens to Pic.
He and I and Gus were just resting at the dugout.
And granted, he is rather handsome, but . . .
I think she was a little embarassed when she noticed me watching her giving Pic
a Cow Kiss.
It gives a whole new meaning to the term “horse lover”, doesn’t it?
Moo-ving day for the last of the Charolais herd.
I know I’m wierd but fat little bums like this just make me happy.
sometimes they string out for a long ways (you have to make the picture bigger to see the front ones)
It’s always good to see the last of them going through the gate and tying your rope back on knowing you didn’t need to use it to treat anyone sick.