Cattle call this morning was at 5:15 a.m. The phone fit right into my dream about trying to buy a camel and, since I couldn't speak French, I was waiting for my close relative to call and interpret for me. I am greatly relieved I didn't grab the phone and continue on in the dream!
Our neighbor bought some cows and needed some extra hands for the day. He wanted me and at least one of the offspring and said we needed to start about 6. I agreed to come and try to bring an offspring with me. I sometimes wish the two would let me know their plans the night before. I sure don't keep my finger on them anymore, and neither do I wish to try.
My close relative got the coffee made and some eggs and bacon on the table while I called the offsprings. One could help and the other one could arrive later, maybe. I will be satisfied if that one stays on the place and takes care of what two are not doing for the day. God knows I am thrilled with the moisture, but it makes haying a slow and hazardous job. We don't want soured hay for stacking in the barn. Anyhow, grass is knee deep and I roll my eyes and grin a bunch!
The cattle newly purchased were fat and sassy. I swear the fellers that unloaded them must have hot-shotted every one as they left the truck because not one eye was without terror.
Talk about snot blowing and ground pawing, these old gals were top of the line. I dreaded trying to do anything with them and suggested we feed them a couple of days until they settled down some.
No more than got that said and a 1200-pound cow attempted to jump the fence of the pipe corral. That episode stirred the bunch a little more.
Remember the Ghost Riders in the Sky talking about hooves of steel and red eyes, we had them right here. I was wishing for some old-time cow hands to ride up and take my place.
The boss opened a gate and got about four head into a crowd pen and started into the chute. I was supposed to give each head a dose of wormer by mouth. I did not volunteer for that position, neither did I want it. The nasty, slobbering cattle are also slimy and dangerously quick head slingers. Busted hands and broken fingers are a usual hazard of this position.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, a feller that says I told you so is not welcomed into many circles. I was not gonna do that, and neither did anyone else. The boss said we could move the cattle into an eight-acre trap and maybe work them next week. We all fell into helping upright the squeeze chute, pick up the work table and find all the medicine and equipment scattered around. We walked around spritely, looking like we all had a purpose. And since it was still early and no one was bleeding, we talked a little about coffee downtown.
I wonder how many of the crew will be too busy to help next week!
Bill is the pen name used by a local writer and longtime resident of the Gravette area. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 06/11/2014