The Cattle Drive

With the long weekend, my favorite husband decided it would be the perfect opportunity to move cattle. Not just any cattle, but smart cattle. We had to round up the 20 cows and calves that had managed to avoid the original cattle drive that had occurred days earlier. To make matters even easier, we had to move them from one side of the pasture to the other. Mind you, this is not a straight line. You must convince the cows to move from their favorite spot, across the pond dam, around the two corners, across the pasture, and into the pen.


There were six posse members in five different vehicles: Amy and Courtney rode together, Chip, Uncle Butch, Ben, and me. Each driver's job was to keep the cattle from running back to their favorite spot. Sounds easy enough, right?


Butch and Ben drove the cows up to the main pasture where the rest of us were waiting to drive them into the pen. The original drive went swimmingly. The cows marched right up to the main pasture around both corners. It looked like they would go right into the pen until they started to run.


Running cattle is the signal that all posse members should use their vehicles to keep the cows from going back to their favorite spot. To put it mildly, chaos ensued. It was like a demolition derby in that pasture as my crazy friends and relations were flying across the field to stop the errant cow or calf.


I was in my precious XC-90 SUV that was purchased with the understanding that it was not to do farm work. So, I was trying to look like I was participating while at the same time staying completely away from all other posse members.


My husband caught onto my ruse and pulled me into the game. I was to follow him in his 1984 Brown Ford POS (I'll post a pix) as closely as possible. At this point I could have cared less about the cattle, I was completely focused on the front end of my car. As I followed Ben, a cow went out of line. I only see Ben's reverse lights come on... I'm hyperventilating that he will back right into me. Luck prevails and he doesn't hit my car, but the cows did get away and we started over again (4th time).


On the 5th try, we managed to wrangle 15 of the 20 cows. Five are hanging out hoping that we'll forget about them.


I have learned that despite my farm upbringing, I am NOT a cowgirl. I have no desire to be a cowgirl. After this, I'm thinking of putting cows on my list of animals that I have no desire to see up close and personal. Currently, the list includes anything that flies or lives in the ocean. [Flying things can dive bomb you, peck at you... shuddering at the thought of them. As for ocean-going creatures, I get sea sick.]


I also learned that Ben's twin sister Amy is quite the cowgirl. She was obvious pumped after the harrowing experience of the demolition derby. [She's also a fan of both flying things and sea-going creatures!]


Finally, I learned that Uncle Butch is the man to call when moving cows. He probably could have moved the cows in by himself on his first try if the rest of us yahoos hadn't been trying to help him. :-)