The sun is shining - whistle a tune!

The sun is shining and I would whistle a tune if I could whistle! Most of the snow of the dreaded last week is gone and, by golly, I am a happy feller this a.m.

I counted cows, fixed some fence and tried to fix a gate hinge that has to be replaced. The ground is still pretty soft but living on the rock pile has a few advantages.

I went back to the gate, strung a couple of strands of electric wire to keep the cows in and went to town to purchase a replacement hinge. I met the offspring, one at a time, doing their chores, and they informed me we had a couple of cows with sore feet and a calf with a case of "I will die if I can," so I put off the town trip.

We had to pen the cattle in order to cut out the sore-footed ones and, of course, they were on the lease land. The pens were pretty rickety and the idea of loading out there is a Steven King horror story. Our old cow herd is gentle and they like the feed we supply, so the gathering is easy enough. Finally got the trailer backed into the proper place and we began to sort.

I didn't count but I figure we loaded every cow in that bunch at least twice except, of course, the sore-footed ones. I suspect every man who has cattle has had some dealings like we did this morning. Why would you, or me, ever build a pen without a gate to cut out of? One simple little hole in the fence could have saved me hours and lots of yelling and work. We finally did get them both loaded and pulled the trailer up to let the rest of them out. They all just stood around and looked at us like we were nuts.

I did go on to town, went to the hardware store and found what I needed. A few of the fellers were there visiting, so we had a good one. I don't see the town fellers much since their close relatives decided to move them to a town close to the doctor, or the department stores, and a much fancier home. There they were, two hours before lunch, shaven and clean, fingernails all cut and neat, smelling like Old Spice and wishing they were back on the land where they belong. A healthy man who has raised cattle and kids did it because he liked it, not because he wanted to retire. This old age business is hard on us in many ways.

Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.