The Working Ranch Blogosphere

I’m a bit of a softy. I admit it; I lack the killer instinct...
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From the beginning of time, ever since the fall, there has been a fragile balance between life and death. The balance is some of God's created life must end in order for some life to continue on. That's just the way it is. As a stockman, I live day to day among that balance. Each year in the cycle, there comes a time when I have to say goodbye to those critters that I've poured a part of my life into. I've lost sleep, endured the cold and heat, bled, and anguished within my soul over them. Then they're gone, and I know it must be. Now it will be their turn to take care of me and return the blessing to my family. I bow my head and take time to thank them and the Creator for their sacrifice.
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My second week at home has been a little more eventful, but I have somehow managed to sneak a little more time for rest in there. I have been helping quite a bit at my family’s cattle auction (Dad can always use a little free labor) and this is no easy task let me assure you.
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The boys have been getting restless. The fights have been on the increase these last few days. I had the neighbor knocking on my door the other morning to let me know one was out on the road. Before you call Child Protective Services on me, I'm talking about my other boys, Da Bulls. Yeah, they know what time of year it is and they're getting anxious. I thought I was gonna have to put a new side on one of the bull sheds a day ago. All I heard was a crash and saw a black bull running for his life. Don't mess with them reds!
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My husband, Jeremy, and I work together on the ranch everyday. There is nary a better communication workshop for a married couple than doctoring sick cattle...
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I apologize for my lack of writing this past week. We were finishing up breeding our last group of heifers and I was working through a pesky head cold, so needless to say, I was perty much spent by the end of the day. I didn't do much more than eat supper and go to bed. Today, though, marked the beginning of the end. Now the only thing left to do was move a few groups of cattle around, and come Wednesday the bulls go out. So, today we did some moving.
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No, I am not talking about the spur clanking, gun belt toting figures like the characters of John Wayne or Clint Eastwood (Still some of my favorite movies). Rather I am talking about that cowboy who wears their orange proudly, knows the official state song of Oklahoma always ends with “State”, and knows exactly how to say “Go Pokes!”
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How is it that any ranch duty that includes the word "heifers" in its description invokes other words such as, "late nights", "dumb", "long days", "no", "stop it", "no or little sleep", and "frustration" ? For those of us who so tenderly and lovingly work with those young, mothers-to-be, do, indeed, know the answer to this question.
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We branded our last group on Saturday. Kirk was perty happy that we were done and could focus on breeding. This was probably the first time in the six years I've been on the ranch that we haven't had to schedule a branding in between an A.I. session. It'll be nice. Maybe we could actually find time to work on a tractor or fix some fence. Breeding is a busy enough time in and of itself. Unfortunately, not everyone is as blessed as us this year. To say the least, when I heard what a friend of ours, Cowboy Bob, is going through, I was shocked. Bob has a little more on his plate than just scheduling a branding in between A.I. sessions. Let me explain.
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The semester is coming to an end and I am getting restless, finding things to procrastinate my studies. However, today I am once again reminded why I am thankful to be a part of Agriculture.
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