Don Parker called for help yesterday morning. He needed a crew to help him gather, dehorn, deworm, castrate, brand and weigh a couple of loads of cattle. He figured I might know of three hands I could volunteer later in the week. We talked about the cattle he just bought and he was sure nervous about the deal. He bought sight unseen, from the southern part of the country, and dealt with fellers he does not know personally -- about a ton of money down the drain or a real good investment!
The offspring came in for lunch and we discussed the adventure for an hour. They squirmed and wiggled around, dreaded spending two days away from our work and the hard hours the two days would be. We talked about the chores here at home and how to manage it all when all three of us would be gone almost all of the daylight. My feelings about working for a neighbor, 60 miles west of us, are pretty much solid. When a man calls for help, I usually move.
We discussed the fact that the offspring never ride a horse. They can, did when young, real young, but prefer not to use one anymore. The barn chores had a volunteer pretty quick and I know she will enjoy the barn cats and loving on old Snip. The question had not been decided by time to go back to work after the second cup of coffee.
I headed to the old cowherd, the basic bunch of this outfit. We have 36 cows that are as pure our blood as it can get. They are the remnants of the herd we took our first good bulls and good heifers out of and we keep them for that sake or maybe just mine and my close relative's sakes. They aren't real pretty but they sure are good beef cattle. Our offspring have shown the progeny and placed high each time, so I come here when I need to clear up my head.
These 36 run on about 16 acres but it is cross fenced and they are moved around so often there is always grass and I feed them some liquid gold pretty often. They are so gentle and I sat there and watched them ease from one bite to the next, trying to get an answer to the dilemma in my head and, I might add, in my heart. I almost can't say no when asked for help.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, we all run up against a hot wire once in a while. The sting is hot and the surprise is breathtaking, but we manage to walk away and talk about it later. Now and then we hit a chug hole that blows a tire and jerks the truck almost into the ditch, but we get it fixed and go ahead with our business. We had better be strong-willed and fair-minded, good-hearted, and a believer in the law, written and unwritten. That makes us men and we in this part of the country are almost always on the mark. I sure want to stay on it!
Smile and keep praying, the vaccinations are coming and we will make it! Remember the Alamo!
Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.