Karbon Kounty Moos

That’s as close as I get. No, not to her, but to having anything resembling good luck. After a morning full of delays - waiting for someone, I took off for Billings with the stock trailer yesterday. I had three old cows and three huge steers of my father-in-law’s to bring down to the yards. Sugar came along for the ride, which was relatively uneventful - on the way down. After I unloaded the cattle I discovered that I couldn’t close the trailer door. Hmmmm. . . one the helpful employees of Billings Live took the panel off and we put it in the trailer. I closed the middle gate behind it, wondering why I’d changed into clean boots and Levi’s. Where would I be without that ubitquitous orange twine?

It has saved me on several occasions. I always pick it up, being sure to have some in every vehicle. Along with gloves, sunglasses, tarp straps, toilet paper, blankets, dog hair, horse treats, knives and miscellaneous tools. When I drove through Silesia, an oncoming vehicle kicked up a stone that cracked my windshield. Between Edgar and Fromberg, the mailman pulled out right in front of me. Thank goodness the trailer was empty (not counting manure), because if I still had my fat load on it, I would not have been able to brake like I was forced to. Note to mailman: that little flashing light on the top of your car does not give you the right to pull out in front of everyone. Try looking first. At Fromberg, I stopped for a calming cup of coffee. It was either that or wait for the mailman.

I was in the feedlot, bedding down the steers and bulls. I had a bale of straw in the bucket and a bale on the spear. I dumped the bucket, to distract the boys from what I was doing at the rear of the tractor. Cattle get excited when you bring them straw, they start jumping and leaping, slamming their heads into the dry bedding. While they concentrated on the bale I had dropped, I worked on the speared bale. A large part of the bale was frozen solid, so I was having quite a time cutting and pulling the twine off. I knew that some of the cattle were banging into the other side of the bale as I worked, so I paid attention to that, too. From around the back of the bale came Bull #508. The photo below was taken eight months ago, he’s quite a bit larger and heavier now.

Uh-oh. . . He looked like he had on a halter. Except it was made out of orange baling twine. He must have buried his head in the bale that I had dropped, and got caught in it. It was wrapped around his muzzle and ears. It was tightly wrapped around his foreleg which he held off the ground up to his head. He had probably twenty pieces of uncut twine wrapped around him - taut. He had twine between his back toes, and around his legs. He was starting to freak out, and some of the other boys were taking an interest in his dilemma. They were playing - yes, heavy cattle do frolic - which can be fun to watch. But he was panicking. I was getting close to panic myself. Straw is not something you want to have to run on - it’s slick. I called Lynn on my cell, “You’re not going to believe this one, I’ve got a bull who is completely wrapped in twine. I’m in the bull pen. This is bad“. 508 ran as well as he could on three legs, with two bulls following and a bunch of steers. I watched and followed them. He went by the self-waterer, and then behind the bale. I half hid on the side of the bale and reached out with my knife. The twine was so tight it cut easily. As soon as he got his right leg back on the ground the rest loosened. I called Lynn, “I got him out.” Lynn came down to check on me anyway. By then I had all the straw spread and the twine picked up. Too much excitement to attempt any photos.

I’ve already heard the jokes about not knowing my own strength, thanks. . .

and now we can.

Yesterday morning started out well. The first order of the day was to get the raccoon out of the trap. I’ve learned to do that before I let the dogs out. The dogs aren’t happy about it, but it makes my life easier. Later in the morning, I was wishing that I had my camera in my pocket.

There were two Sandhill Cranes in the hayfield that wouldn’t have needed a zoom lens to capture. One was dancing, hopping and popping. The link has better photos than I could have taken, and you can listen to them, too.

In the afternoon, I started walking to the mailbox, when I noticed a snake in the driveway. Once again, I lamented that my camera was in the house - for about two seconds. No time for a Kodak moment. . .

This was not the snake in my driveway, I don’t know if they were related (they did meet the same fate).

The adrenaline was pumping. I needed to get the dogs in the house now. For reasons known only to them, all three went in when I told them to. I grabbed my shovel from the Mule.

Then I looked down. Oh no, that won’t do. . .

These lovely feet aren’t mine, the image is from Sue’s Sparkler.

I ran into the house and put my boots on my bare feet and over my jeans. Not as stylish, but safer. I contemplated my pistol, but thought better of it. The snake had moved a bit further in and was not happy to see me. I was happy that it had not gone into the tall grass a few inches away. A few minutes later I let the dogs back out.

In the early evening I went through the heifers with Lucky on the Mule. A few days ago I pointed out a heifer to Lynn. She was very heavy with calf. I put the bulls in on the 20th of May. She apparently was bred before we weaned last November. Uh-oh. . . I left the pasture and dropped Lucky back at the house and called Lynn. Who probably wished that he hadn’t answered the phone.

“Lynn - it’s Karen - the heifer- she’s starting to calve - I’m gonna need help - I had to drop the dog back at the house - I don’t know how long she’s been at it - she doesn’t seem to be trying - I’m on my way back down there - she’s got one foot out - I’ll get her in the corral - or the barn - see you there.”

I was born in NY - not only can I talk fast - I’m pretty good with run-on sentences.

I had the cattle moved when Lynn arrived. I think that the bulls had been bugging her in the pasture. We got her in the barn without any problem. She laid down and looked like she was going to give it a go. We left her alone while we went to irrigate. When we returned to the barn she was a changed heifer. No, she didn’t have her calf - she simply decided that she wanted to beat the snot out of us. After a few hairy moments we got her in the maternity pen. We got straps on the calf’s feet and Lynn started pulling. Then we started pulling. Mama pushed a little. The calf was huge - and very much alive. As soon as we got its head out it let us know that it wasn’t thrilled with any of us. The calf came easily to about its shoulders. That was it. I got the calf puller off the wall and fumbled with it. Lynn pulled, Mama pushed, I pulled, we ratcheted, the feet slipped out of the straps, we started over. Finally - it’s a girl! We brought the calf to a pen and released Mama, who still wanted to run us over. She went in with the calf, and we left them alone. Sitting on the Mule, dirty and tired, I said to Lynn, ” I hope none of the other heifers are that pregnant”.

I filled a bucket with oats and went to the barn. I gave Mama some water and hay. I saw that she hadn’t licked the calf, so I poured oats on it. A couple hours later I went back and saw that the oats were gone and the calf was now lying beside her. I gave her more water and went home to bed. When I checked in the morning the calf was nursing.

I’ve been setting a live trap every night the last week or so. Every morning it has been tripped and tipped over, but I haven’t caught the raiders. They’ve been wreaking havoc with the bird feeders. Seconds after letting the dogs out this morning, the raucous lawn party began. By the time I made it to the front yard they were attacking and rolling the cage. The big tom wasn’t thrilled with the new turn of events. Ty had a collar that I was able to grab. He was put on the porch. Lucky wasn’t wearing her collar, I had taken it off last night while scratching her neck. The old girl was having so much fun I couldn’t get anywhere near her. Somehow, I caught Sugar. I was making a lot more noise than any of the animals. I’m not sure why I bother, no one pays any attention to me. Finally, I got Lucky on the porch, too. There was a stick involved.

For the fun part I donned a pair of leather gloves. The trap is so mangled I couldn’t get the door to stay open. Tom was very vocal in his displeasure. I was holding the door open for him, but he didn’t trust me. What a surprise. He insisted on facing the back of the cage. I had to hold the cage door open and get him turned around. The third time was a charm.

Ahh - it’s been a week from Hades, following at least a year from there. I’m now at the “ribs are aching from coughing fits” stage. I’m still kicking, not very high though.

In the spirit of Furry Friday here’s Sugar:

She’s looking a little “hangdog”, isn’t she? She didn’t enjoy the cold hose bath that we just had. I caught her rolling in horse manure. This was right after Lucky vomited on the carpet before I could get her out the door. . .

Last night I was driving the Kawasaki Mule and was smacked in the nose by a bee. Or some other hard bodied insect with a stinger. It hurt as soon as it hit me. I was afraid that I’d look like Karl Malden. I did have a beer and benadryl cocktail when I got home.

Then there was Tuesday’s “computer desk incident”. I had manhandled it across the rooms to the front door. Lynn and I got it out and into my pickup. When I delivered it - no one was home. I maneuvered it over one side of the truck and the tailgate. As I climbed out, it gracefully slid to the ground - in three pieces. Sorry, Maneta. I guess that it served us well, though. Later that day, one of the 35 pound boxes of soybean oil (don’t ask) in the bed of the pickup fell on its side and leaked all over.

I’m hoping for a slow Saturday.

I started sneezing on Sunday. Waking with a wicked sore throat on Monday, I called the doctor’s office. They were able to squeeze me in that morning.

As I turned off the highway, a pickup in front of me did too - without using a turn signal. As the brown pickup left the road for the grass, I came to a stop - wondering what was wrong. Then it returned to the road, and crossed the bridge. I stayed far behind it. I noticed the cowboy behind the wheel and the County 29 plates. I thought that he must be lost - or looking for an address. He turned right - again without signaling. I sighed as I turned behind him - I was already signaling to go the same way. He proceeded down the street at about 5 miles an hour. I kept my distance. In front of the clinic, he turned left (no indicator light - what a surprise). They utilize angle parking, but he drove up over the sidewalk and on the lawn. I signaled and waited until he backed up off the lawn. He parked over the sidewalk. I pulled in and parked, giving him a very wide berth.

As I walked around the front of my car, he struggled to get out of his pickup. I asked him, “Are you all right?” He said, “I can’t see out of my left eye”. What can you possibly say to that? I walked into the clinic and stood at the receptionist’s desk as I signed a form. The cowboy came in and stood next to me. I said, “You know, I followed you from the highway, and you turned three times without using your signals. I stayed way behind you because I didn’t know what you were doing or where you were going”. He said, “I didn’t know what I was doing either. I’m having a bad day”.

As we sat in the waiting room he seemed restless and fidgety. He kept picking up magazines and putting them back down. He looked over at me and I asked him again if he was okay. I know, we’re at the doctor’s, but I asked any way. He just repeated that he was having a bad day. He was called into an examing room before me.

I saw the doctor - he still thinks that it’s allergies. Maybe so, but I now have a cold on top of that. I commented to him about the “cowboy having a bad day”. I said that I didn’t think he should be behind the wheel. I thanked the doctor and the receptionist and left.

I noticed the red plastic first - scattered like poppy petals in the street next to my car.

Son of a . . .

I went back in the office and asked them to call the police. Once at the back of the car I saw the extent of the damage. The tail light was broken and the rear of the car was smashed. I called my insurance company as I waited for an officer to come to take the report.

I’m happy to report that Maggie is home and seems to be doing okay. I took Lucky to the vet yesterday and he was pleased with the way her foot is healing. Which was a relief - since the vet was talking about amputating her toe on Thursday. He also gave me a different medication for Ty to calm him. It’s wait and see all around.

These girls were moved yesterday.

Maggie is a dog that was rescued from the pound by my friend. This pretty girl was bitten by a rattlesnake on the Rims today. She is at the vet and they’re doing what they can for her.