Steers Who Leap

A Roxyrancher Adventure

On Thursday our goal was to simply trap all the cows. We were not too concerned as who was in which corral. it was a trap them in one of the corrals so that checking is easier and we will sort on the weekend sort of day. So, it is now Saturday and Brent is off work today. Time to try to sort. Our goal is to have all the not yet calved cows in the big corral. The mommies and babies in the smaller corral, and the replacement heifers, Llama, Morty the highland steer, and anyone else not having a baby in the pasture. Wahoo! Easy. Bwahahahaha

We still have the issue of deep snowdrifts. I was really hoping the cows would tromp through all the places in the smaller corral so that we could move around easier and not get stuck in drifts. they did not cooperate. rats!!  I mean Morty, the highland steer, is not busy growing a calf or anything, he could have done it for us. He and the llama had other plans.

So, off we go to sort cows. Now, when my dear husband gets in this zone, he tends to get a bit worked up and forgets that he is working with his very smart and talented wife. My cuteness in my matching pink and green outfit must distract him. So, I have to let him know, usually loudly and with an eye roll that I am not new here and I have a clue and quit treating me like I do not.  He gets the hint.  I have gotten mad and walked off before. I usually make him look me in the eye when I am straightening him out, just to be sure. We all know about the selective hearing.

Back to sorting with limited manoeuvrability, a bit of swearing – Brent this time. I did ask the cows once if their brains were frozen, just for old times sake.  It really was not their fault that they were not getting it.  Due to the drifts and frozen everything, the flow to get them out the gate we wanted them to use is not very good.   cows like flow.  which is one of the reasons we had to get them out of this pen.  In the bigger pen, it is easy to get them into the much smaller maternity pen if they are having trouble and need help. So after a lot of time and a work out we got most of them.  Sometimes you gotta know when to quit and have a coffee..with Baileys.

We were not done yet though. Now on to sorting in the bigger pen. The flow is way better here.  We can trap a few in a smaller pen and sort from there. My job is to be at the gate with all senses alert ready to open and close fast.  (hahah I was even giggling as I typed that.  I am usually chatting with the cows and not paying complete attention to my husband. multitasking.)  Maybe there is a reason he forgets I know what I am doing. NAH!

This was working really well until it didn’t.  We had a few late calves last year and it was time to wean them and we also have a steer we are fattening.  Yummy.  They can be a little umm….flighty.  Brent says to me: latch your gate with the chain.  I say why?  ( in that suspicious voice and possibly an eye roll)  he says they are getting a bit worked up and they may run into the gate and he would prefer I not get ran into.  Hey, me too!!!  Sure I will do that.  Then I stood beside the gate and he said you may not want to stand there.  I agreed ( unusual) and moved just in the nick of time. One of the calves we were weaning and Mr. Yummy steer leaped over the fence as if they are Spruce Meadows jumpers right where I WAS standing.  If I would have been still standing there I am sure everyone in Alberta would have heard my scream as they came at me.

@^#$&!!!  was all I had to say about that.  Munchkins were safely in the bale truck outside of the corral and I heard their yells of  mom are you OK?  then yells of:  we didn’t see that coming. Yeah, me either. Luckily daddy did. whew!!

Good husband.  I even bought him a birthday present yesterday, a way nicer one than he is expecting. he is very happy he gets to be the hero in this story. I am very happy he saved my life, or at least prevented me from getting even more gray hair.

We do have to go back out and try to finish the job. I am not sure I am ready yet.  traumatized still.

hugs

Shannon