Our first day of vacation was spent at Innisfree on the Stillwater, herding and sorting cattle for spring processing. This was the first time we’ve helped bring the herd in from the field, and it was definitely a learning experience for all. You may recall that the herd of Black Angus at Innisfree is a little on the feisty side, and that they tend to have a will all their own. On this fine spring day, their will did not include coming into the barn to be sorted.
So our little band took to the field, me in the farm’s pickup, Denny on the tractor, Katie and Keba on foot, and set about trying to lure/herd the majority of them into the barn. There was a learning curve for Katie and I, having never been part of this stage of the process before, and so our first few attempts were met with failure. Each time the cows slipped past us, they trotted out further into the pasture. Frustration mounted. The task was made more complicated by the fact that there is a stream which bisects the pasture, just at the point where you need to be funneling the herd through the gate which will lead to the barnyard. The ground on either side of the creek is a mire, so crossing it with either the truck or the tractor just isn’t an option. So right when you get the herd just about where you need them, one of the vehicles has to sprint (and I use the term loosely) around to the other side of the creek to finish nudging them into the barnyard.
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| We also got to meet Surprise! the mule foal. She’s as spirited as she is lanky and adorable! |
After several attempts, we managed to get the herd piled up against the creek, and slowly Denny and I urged them forward until they started crossing it. I threw the truck in reverse and started backing up, hoping this time I could get to the creek crossing fast enough to catch the herd on the other side before they doubled back again! But as I crossed the creek, clunked the truck into drive and moved forward, I saw that they had turned around again and were moving to go back from whence they came, across the creek and out into the pasture.
But there was something, nay, someone in their way. Katie, my quiet, unassuming wife, who not so long ago was afraid of getting her new work boots dirty, stood fast in the gap, and yelled with all the authority of an angry mother. She’d found a huge stick, and was holding it over her head, making herself look quite large and intimidating. Her body language said she meant business, and the cows believed it! I’m not sure if they were more scared of her yelling, or surprised that she’d suddenly become so brazen. They all seemed to pause, take a long look at her, and then at me in the truck and then at Denny in the tractor, then back and the noisy one with the big stick in front of them. Then the whole herd, bull and all, shrugged their huge shoulders, turned, and sauntered into the barnyard.
There was much rejoicing.
When we’d successfully penned them all up, we all laughed and congratulated Katie on her new-found cattle handling prowess. She found that big old stick, and it became her talisman, the source of her confidence and power, and everybody saw it work. She came up clutch, and I’m not sure we would’ve gotten the cows into the barn otherwise.
Just another day in the life, at Innisfree on the Stillwater. Always lessons to be learned, and new skills to be discovered.
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| The now-sorted herd, back out (way, way out) to pasture on an idyllic day. |