Monthly Archives: August 2012

Same Old, Same Old

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Same old, same old, just checking cows, treating calves. We’re starting to see some dust pneumonia now that the grass is drying off, just here and there, not too many, and a few foot-rot cows.

The only excitement today was a bull that had gone bush on us us got caught with his pants down too close to the corrals at the south camp without any brush to hide him and we just tucked him right in. His owner picked him up tonight and soon he’ll be an Oscar Myer Wiener. Yay!

Roping cows

Had a screaming headache from working in the yard in the morning. My cowboy says “I got a cow I need a little help with, come with me you won’t need to do any roping (where have I heard that before) probably don’t even need a horse (sure)”. I tell him “I’ll just take one anyway (poor Pic was handiest, he’s looking old and thin)”.

So off we go, found the foot rot cow right where he’d seen her and good thing Pic and I were there. It’s so much faster with two of us than wrapping them up. That’s how one guy manages a big cow, rope her head then ride round and round her keeping the rope above her hocks and finally pulling it all tight and down she goes, tied up in a pretty little package (in theory, in reality it’s not quite so pretty).

As I was sitting there with Pic and I holding her hind legs while she got her medicine I realized Boone is too little for work like this. Sure most of our work is treating calves now that they are giving Fusaguard to the bulls for foot rot. But there are still always some cows to treat.

What was I thinking? I know I need a big horse. Not that Boone isn’t wonderful.

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Good Grief!

Ya, today was full of grief but the good kind. It started last evening while my cowboy was checking on the bulls in the bull pasture, just before dark. They looked good but on the way home he found a gate open and cows slipping into the pasture by the bulls, not good. He put what he could find back and shut the gate.

Today though he was messin his pants to get back down there to see if he missed any. Oh ya, of course, a whole bunch. So we put them back. With them was a bull we hadn’t been able to find. He came out to play when the girls showed up I guess.

He was spooky and horrible to handle and there was nothing we could do but try to take him all the way to the south camp, must have been close to five miles. He finally went bush about the time we were to hot and tied to care. A project for tomorrow.

I got a little owie. As I’ve said before: I hate barb wire. A gate I had to open bit me.

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Boone was so good. I’m still a little chilled but if anyone can help me get through that it will be this honest old horse.

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Well ya, the day was full of grief but realy, it was good grief.

Quality

My cowboy and I were riding along and all of a sudden he blurts out: “I sure like the feel of these reins.” I just smiled. He was riding with one of my bridles that had my favorite pair of split reins.

You know, in true cowgirl style I probably have more tack than I do clothes. I still have the original bosal I came into my marriage with 35 or so years ago.

I’m so much older and wiser than back then. After all those purchases I’ve learned that any kind of bit never can compensate for bad hands or bad timing. I’ve come to appreciate real craftsmanship over bling. I know now that a comfortable saddle (comfortable for both the horse and rider) is worth a hundred times more than Ferrari.

I have a few of those kinda of things: my breast collar, my tapaderos, those reins, Pic’s new headstall,

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They aren’t flashy (not exactly true about Pic’ new headstall) but they are designed to work well, every stitch and stamp seems perfectly placed, the hardware is almost pretty, and they have a feel that is hard to describe, they feel, well, like quality.

It takes some hunting to find the good stuff. My taps, I found on kijiji. The young fellow was just starting out and had taken some extra time to do them up real nice. It goes beyond the stitching, stamping, or the quality of the leather. They have a rhythmic tap, tap, tap as a horse walks along happily doing his job that seems oddly comforting to both me and the cattle. He told me he made sure they sounded right and they do.

The breast collar, reins, and headstall I bought from a little local store who has an eye for nice things. But I believe you can buy that stuff online here. I love the quality of the things that I have that these folks at Buckaroo Leather have made.

Life is like that too; it’s about quality. How well you design or plan, the effort you put into doing it right, making it out of the best material (character and morals), you end up with something to be proud of.

CBT

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So, I’m still trying to get over this irrational terror of new horses ( not handling from the ground, just the climbing on and riding part). Not a fear that serves this old cowgirl well. I suppose I maybe could get away with some kind of avoidance plan but the fact is I gotta ride horses other than my old Pic. His working days are so close to being over.

So with a very appreciated gift certificate for Chapters, I bought this book. I suppose some kind of shrink could help but not too many working folks can afford the time or money it takes to pay those guys. So a book it is.
I love these for Dummies books besides.

Can you see where the title says:
Pinpoint the problems you want to tackle
Review how your feelings are linked to your behavior
Develop strategies to beat anxiety and depression

Spent this Sunday working through some of that and I have some ideas now on what to do. I have a plan. Now I just got do it.

It might have to go on hold for a week or so as I have to make a trip back out east to pick up the two horses I took out there last year. But I feel better already knowing there is something I can do. It’s a good book, by the way.

White Wale Day

Gathered 13 Charolais bulls without one hitch today. Whew!

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The help was awesome, one’s 22 and the other is 23. Nice, nice boys, both of them. I think my cowboy really likes it when these young fellows come and help. They make me wish I had a son or two; not that I don’t love my girls but it would have been nice.

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My cowboy had a meeting tonight so I got to trailer the last four bulls down to the bill pasture and put a black cow and calf back with the Simmental cows.

Took my three dogs in the truck with me: Blue, Gus, and Pojke (pronounced like boy-ka but with a p) and on the way home I found myself singing: “All creatures of our God and King, lift up your voice and with me sing, Aleluliah. . . ” I just felt joyful and the thought came to me how happy my dad would be that I have all the dogs and cats and horses and grass that I always wanted as a kid. My dad loved me, still does I’m sure.

Want to hear a secret? Sometimes when I miss my dad I ask God if he could give him a big hug from me which I did today and to let him know I’m happy.

A Hot Day Off

Went to the zoo today. It’s been a while (18 years) I liked the elephants. Two females where playing a Bet you can’t catch my tail game and a bull was tossing a treat ball around that was dropping what I thought was peanuts. The giraffe was boss of the two zebra in the same pen. It was actually fun and such a nice break from bulls.

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Bears, Snakes, and Wire

There are too many things in this ol world that I hate but this is one.

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Bears, I’m plain scared of bears. Snakes, well, I’d rather wake up with one in my sleeping bag with me than even see a bear and I really don’t care for snakes much but I hate barbed wire.

That roiled up bunch was all strung out in the long grass and while Pic and I were chasing after a bull on the run away he caught it with his right hind and it could have been ugly. Scared us both, a lot. So glad it wasn’t any worse.

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Bulls are getting hard to find. We hunted half the day in the big pasture by the house but only found these three.

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And then one more. They walk so slow and of course they were on the farthest corner so it took forever to get them to the North camp, here.

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I looked up when we were in that far corner and told my cowboy: “we’re going to get rained on” but it was just a few spots and spats, nothing the bulls or us couldn’t handle.

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When we got back we put the bourses in the barn while we loaded the bulls in the trailer to haul them to the bull pasture down by the south camp. I laughed when I saw Trouper hopefully waiting by the gate hoping to get put in the barn too. But the rule here is: if the horse works he gets paid (in oats), half before we go out and half when they get home. No work/no oats, so Trouper had to wait.

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But Pic and Wilbur sure enjoyed their hard earned rewards. Me too, a hot bath and comfortable bed with a cowboy in it. 😉

Tired of Bulls Yet?

Blah! I am.

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The only thing interesting was this Simmental’s color. Most of them here are a darker red. The fellow that bought this one may have thought the calves would look more like a Charolais/Red Angus cross which the buyers seem to like better, at least around here.

And I did get a picture of a hawk that I think is a Feruginous Hawk that nests around here every year in the one tree by the road. Couldn’t quite tell from the distance I was at but I didn’t want to disturb her if it was.

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When we got back around 7:30 everyone looked as hot and tired as I felt, especially the barn cat, Weasel.

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More bulls tomorrow with help again. It’ll go much faster than with just the two of us.