Roo's First Road Trip and A Few Repairs

Gunner and The Heathen

It’s been a CRAZY winter, as all of you know. I finally have a car and was ready to hit the road with Heath. I planned to stop and see my Brother and niece. We got to their new house where my brother has mother-in-law quarters, so to speak, and Heath was excited to see his doggy-friend Gunner, that he met when my brother came up last year. What he wasn't ready for was meeting my niece's two elderly golden retrievers. One of them, Ruger, decided Heath did not belong there and chased him until Heath found a safe spot under my car. I was glad to see that he was smart enough to get  himself out of what could have been a bad situation.

Once they were formally introduced, the dogs all got along fine. The 2 Golden Retrievers and the Yellow Lab all walking around, content with mouthfuls of soft frisbees. They use them like pacifiers. Heath, on the other hand, just wanted to rough house and play with someone. As Gunner spun in circles protecting his toy, which he thought was Heath’s target, Heath gleefully pinched and gently pulled his ears, which were his real targets. It’s how he punishes the Maremmas at home, when they come to close to me, wanting attention. He grabs and pulls their ears. Never hard enough to make them squeal, but enough to be annoying. After a yummy spaghetti casserole made by my brother and a couple of rum and cokes, we were ready for bed.

They had a nice big reclining chair for me to sleep in, which made a strange noise when it reclined, but everything was great until 2 something-o'clock-in-the-morning when Heath quietly sneaked up the stairs into the MASTER bedroom to chase their cat around. My nephew-in-law came down the stairs behind a speeding and contrite looking sheppie and I apologized and spent the rest of the night insisting that Heath sleep on the chair with me, which he begrudgingly did. The next morning when I got up, the chair made an even louder awful noise and I was horrified to see that it had apparently been too close to the wall and one corner of it had pushed through, making a large hole in the drywall...of their brand spanking new house.

 It had been raining steadily for days, and their back yard, which was too new to be landscaped was a muddy sinkhole. They had sectioned off a small area and filled it with gravel so the dogs had someplace to potty. They would all go out together, the two old male Goldens both squatters, and Gunner a lifter. There was a nice wooden post just a few steps in that made a perfect faux fire hydrant that Gunner appreciated. We opened the glass doors and let Heath out with the rest of the boys. However he found the barbecue leg more appealing, much to the distress of my nieces who loudly said, “OH NO HEATH!”
No she wasn't really yelling at him and she wasn't really angry but he is super sensitive and took it that way anyhow. He curled his tail between his legs and began slinking back to the house. I caught up to him and talking to him  reassuringly, led him out to the gravel area. He refused to put a foot on the gravel and was obviously quite intimidated by it.  I puzzled over this for a moment and realized his memory is quite good. The last time he saw gravel like this was a trip to town when we had let him out to pee. As he jumped into the planter that was full of gravel, all 4 feet were punctured by goathead stickers and he whimpered painfully. We had to lift him up and pick all the stickers out of his feet. As his mama didn't raise no dummy, he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. I had to push him onto this gravel so he could see that it was safe. After that, he had no problem competing with Gunner to see who could cover the stick the highest. Potty problem solved.

Next day Hwy 20, where I was heading to see my friend, was closed and washed out, so I changed my plans and was going to go visit my cousin on the West side of California. Then the snow and mud slides closed I-80 overnight. If I could sneak by and just get down to Sacramento I could take Highway 5 up to Williams. I was leery of I-80 when it opened as there were already 3 wrecks reported the first 20 miles, so I opted instead to spend another day with my brother and my niece. That day, Williams flooded and the Oroville dam was still in danger of breaking. I am grateful that I heeded the still, small voice, because all of Northern California flooded and the roads were a mess. I definitely dodged a bullet.

It looked like our only option was to head back home before we caused any more havoc at my niece and brother's new house.
It was snowing when I left Reno for the 5 hour trek home. It turned to rain outside of town and rained all the way home. By the time I got to Winnemucca, I was flaring painfully and shaking. I was tired, and weak and didn’t have much strength to work with. I called TheMan and told him I couldn’t make it home, I was too weak and in too much pain to manage the 3 more hours of remote desert driving.  Heath and I went into a Mexican restaurant we were parked next to at a casino and I had lunch while he napped under the table. It was relaxing and restorative.  I took my time, feeling no pressure, and no anxiety because Heath was near and by the time we were done, I felt well enough to make it home.

So went our first big excursion away from home on our own. It wasn’t quite what I had hoped, but it was a good start.  It turns out that when I lifted my saddle several months ago, hurting my right arm it was more than just a tiny little tear in my bicep. Instead, I tore my whole bicep tendon loose at the head of the femur, and 3 of the 4 large muscles that make up the rotator cuff are torn through and badly atrophied, so I just had surgery to make what repairs they could. The doc said he thinks he has bought me some time before I require a complete replacement.

Heath making sure Lamby doesn't try to sit with me...

Heath watching over me while we have car worked on after Dr appt

HannahBanana feeds Lamby

One of my grandaughters came up to help me after surgery. It made for a great 2 weeks, as her cheerfulness was even more valuable than her helpfulness and that was generous. We had a bummer lamb born just before my surgery, so she took care of bottle feeding her as well as feeding the Heathen and helping feed us. I don't think I would have fared well that first two weeks without her as it was pretty painful and needed icing around the clock. Now I am waiting to heal and figure out what is next for us. Hope its something good!

Heath watches over Hannah

...And So Forth...

The heaters are plugged in on the water troughs, the shelters are up the hay has arrived and we are pretty much ready for winter. I was worried about Madge, the last of my original original Dorper ewes. It has been a year since she lambed and I thought maybe she wasn’t able to have anymore as she has had trouble lambing every time and I have had to intervene. I was glad to notice her little lopsided udder suddenly evened out. In less than two weeks time she went from looking not bred at all to absolutely enormous. She is currently in the lambing shed, lonely and uncomfortable. She’s taking her sweet time too, but I am glad because she is a sweet thing and I didn’t want to cull her.  In fact, night after night I have been watching her, although she doesn’t have the classical signs I usually am able to pick up on, such as hollow flank, tight, shiny bag and going ‘slab sided’. No, instead, her Madge-esty simply enjoys eating copious amounts of hay day and night and rocking back and forth in her attempts to get up and get down. She backs up to the wire grill door, with her ever so itchy derrier just out of sight of the camera and does the mambo, as I sit on my perch in the warm living room rocking with laughter at the sight.

The cougar still haunts the houses up above us, walking around the ranch compound without fear. He is still spotted in broad daylight, often not far from where the guys are loudly working in the shop. He avoids capture or destruction time after time. The cowdogs sound off at him as they back their way to safety, one reason I think he is so bold. The LGD’s would not be so easily intimidated, but as they cover much ground on their perimeter patrols, they still risk being caught in one of the traps the cougar has NOT stepped in. I’ve heard some of them could be lethal. At least one trapper will be here until January. It’s going to be a long, long 6 weeks, regardless of how very much we like him and enjoy his company.

EmmaLouMoo is about 4 1/2 months pregnant now and should calve in March. I was hoping to have SushiMoo bred but there wasn’t a bull in at the right time. Then they brought a bull up with some calves for some reason and had them in the back pasture. I asked the boss if I could put her out with him and he said “sure, but he leaves in 10 days.”  I watched everyday to see if she was in heat. She was coming in the morning they came for the bull. I just hope she got far enough along to be bred before they moved him. I hate having to wait over another year to see what kind of milk cow she is going to be for me.

Meanwhile, I’ve been making lots of soap. In addition to my normal inventory I have added Jasmine, which is fast becoming one of my new favorites. I have also made a couple of batches of Salt Soap which is exceedingly nice. It has incredible lather and I love the way my skin feels after using it. It gets things really clean without drying my skin out and the Himalayan Sea Salt in it does its work detoxifying and nurturing. I think it’s going to be a pretty popular soap. There are tons of different varieties cured and ready to go for Christmas gifts. They make great stocking stuffers! If anyone cares to order, please remember our pony express here is a little slow, so get your orders in soon if you are wanting them in time for Xmas. Soap is currently 3 bars for $12 but prices will be going up after the 1st of the year due to the rise in shipping and supplies. Salt soap is currently $5.50 a bar. They are very large and very heavy bars.

Health issues have kept me indoors much more than I would like lately, so I went out into the small sheep pasture  to visit with the Maremmas. Bruno is getting stir crazy and REAL crabby. He was complaining at the ram so badly I had to yell at him to stop. I had just fed everyone, and as usual, when I went to toss the hay over the fence, the sheep made sure to all be right in the landing zone. I watched as Annie-goat’s baby “Shugar” grazed all the leaf off the backs of her lamby companions. The dogs left their food bowls to visit with me and to keep the neighbor dogs at bay, as one Border Collie was taunting them with the famous BC ‘evil eye’. Next thing I knew, one of the young wethers had snuk over to their dogbowls and was helping himself. Now the Maremmas work hard at disciplining the sheep to leave their food alone. They roar and charge and run them off, which is okay, as they would otherwise starve. They never injure the animals so I see no reason to put a stop to it. The sheep know better...even this guy. I was curious to watch, as instead of running along the fence to run him off, they instead circled around at top speed through the middle of the flock. Instead of scattering in terror (because none of them are afraid of the Maremmas, instead they run TO them when frightened) they all watched as the dogs ran between them with the look on their faces of “Oh boy, Joey is REALLY gonna get it!” And he did.

The dogs clown around, wrestling and knocking each other down until someone gets mad...

Then, of course, Potamus wants to kiss and make up, much to Bruno's humiliation.

Next up on the entertainment list was Cowboy the rooster. He has adopted the sheep as his ‘flock’, grazing and foraging with them by day and sleeping with, or in many cases on them by night. He particularly enjoys riding around on Thyme’s back. She was waltzing across the pasture to the water trough when he hitched a ride and apparently he’s due for a pedicure because she took to pitching and bucking until she unseated him. He landed gracefully behind her and picked someone else to sit on. It’s funny to actually watch as the sheep stretch out their necks and sniff his face while he stands and allows it.

This evening, as usual, I fed the horses, captured my recalcitrant milk cows, fed them, fed the sheep, then in turn, fed the dogs. Once again, they had to run sheep away from their bowls. As I was heading for the house I noticed them return and with confused and forlorn looks on their faces, they looked at one another then just sat down, staring in the direction of their dog bowls without eating. Curious, I walked back to find the rooster and a friend had decided to help themselves, and gobbled up kibble unimpeded while the Maremmas looked on sadly. The LGD’s sense of honor is beyond fault.

Angst and the Guardian Angel

It was a fine day, so we saddled up and decided to go for a long ride. Heading across several large pastures (large being of a size in keeping with a 250,000 acre ranch) we picked our way through miles of grassland, past rock jacks, around sloughs, through willows and across fields then weaved our way back to one of my favorite places, an old willow corral. It has decayed to the point of being pretty much unusable now, but was one of the prettiest places on the ranch, in my opinion, with the willow reed fencing and the wild roses growing on it. My camera went dead which was pretty disappointing because I want to get some good pictures of what little is left of it, before it's too late. We rode on by and headed for the far side of the valley, determined to make a long, long ride today.We were several hours out and I happened to glance behind me and with mixed feelings I turned my horse around. 

Bruno, my self appointed body guard/Livestock Guardian/nursemaid/Maremma/100+ lb Guardian Angel, who is certain that I am not capable or safe anywhere on the ranch without his presence, was galloping towards us. He had apparently managed to scale the fence of the only 'dog-proof' pasture we have, in which I had contained him and he tracked us several miles across the ranch. He is built for speed and power, not for distance and his heavy coat made it even more challenging for him to and catch us in the warmth of a sunny fall day. He was obviously greatly relieved to have found me, clearly proud of himself and so strongly convinced in his own mind that he was doing a most excellent job, I couldn't reprimand him. He had a look on his face of absolute joy and accomplishment and looked at me as if to say “I am SO glad I finally found you! It’s not safe out here, there are ________ “(coyotes, cougars, field mice)" fill in the blank.

 We turned and headed back home, Bruno happily riding drag and occasionally trotting alongside, ever watchful for predators.  He had overheated himself and I chuckled because he hates water but continued to immerse himself in every irrigation ditch we passed.

The thing about dogs...they can be trusted. They are never judgmental, or malicious. They are faithful, sincere, devoted. Honest. Loving. Dependable. Exasperating.

The fall calves have been weaned. These are smaller, younger calves and have a more difficult time adjusting. Most are currently 3 miles away below the processing corrals. Coyotes have been bad this year and killed a few so there are currently 3 trappers on the ranch trying to eliminate some before the cows start calving again. That puts my Maremmas at risk of being caught in a trap. I’ve had to lock Potamus in a small pen with sheep at night, and keep Bruno in the house. Potamus is the flock guardian and pretty much stays in the pen with the sheep. Bruno is a perimeter guardian and spends each night out patrolling and deterring or confronting predators. It's hard to confine them. They absolutely hate it. I’ve been letting them come in the house to eat because the ranch cats have been stealing their expensive dog food. I wish they would eat the ranch cats, but none the less, since the Maremmas haven’t been free to do their job, the ranch dogs have figured out they have free access to my chickens as well. In great frustration, I have all the chickens and guineas locked in their little henhouse for protection.

This morning in the wee hours, Bruno woke me up because he wanted out. It was all quiet so I figured he was just hot or needed a bathroom break. I opened the door and he quietly slipped through. 

This morning he was gone. He scaled the back fence again and didn’t come when I called. He could have either been guarding and disposing of a coyote kill, or he could have been caught in one of the $@!!*&# traps. I never know until he either shows up, or the trappers check their traps and find him there if he is okay or not.

It’s unbelievable how much damage anxiety can do to your body. He’s often been in the area the traps are set, and a couple of years ago was caught in one of them. I guess until the trappers are all gone, I will just have to deal with the anxiety and watch my hair turn a  lighter shade of gray day by day.

This morning Randyman told me that the cowboss complained Bruno was chasing the calves back from the fence. His sheep are on the other side of the fence so that is why he does what he is doing. Unfortunately, I didn't get to talk to the cowboss myself, but I do know he has disdain for LGD's, as his only real experience with them was a friend who apparently got one and locked it in a barn with a bunch of lambs. It was, of course, a disaster. People seem to overlook the fact that these are still dogs and you can't just throw one out there and leave it and expect great results. It's not like putting an Alka Selter in your water. Anyway, I have moved all the sheep once again so there is no common fence between them and the calves and hope that solves the problem. I don't want any misunderstandings between my dogs and the new cowboss. When it comes to human vs dogs, dogs nearly always lose. Better to play it safe.

Through the Storm

The sky is painted in shades of silver, grey and cream, and the shadows of the clouds throw a purple cast upon the mountains which lay on the far side of the valley. The top of the large fault block to the west shimmers white with new snow and deep blue crevasses, the peak pushing up out of the clouds at 10,000 ft while the rest of the mountain is cloaked beneath the haze.

A drizzle falls slowly on the ranch as EmmaLou lays sleepily cudding in the straw under her little shelter. The sheep are out in the back 20 acres nibbling at the young grasses that dare to push their way up out of the soil under the straw colored forage of last season. I pick my way through the downed thistle, following Cletus along the small cattle trail leading down to the grove of trees where the sheep were grazing.

The weather has been taking its toll on me, as well as a wicked chest cold that I can’t seem to get over, so as soon as we reach a spot out of the heavier wind I lay down in the grass to soak up what little sun peeks through the clouds as they scud across the landscape. Cletus comes to make sure I am all right, sticking his great cold nose in my face. I laugh as his lips hang in floppy wrinkles and his big white head hangs down, eyes disappearing and resembling a giant, white Sharpei. His huge fangs are brilliant white, probably from working on the bones and antlers he and Bruno lug home from their nightly patrols, his lips falling away in a grin. He gives me an affectionate nose touch and then goes to check each individual sheep. The lambs follow him around as if he is their hero, which, indeed, he is. 

My nephew and a young lady visiting the ranch are up by the barn in my round pen, working colts. One jumped out of it the other day, crushing one of my panels. I hear their voices on the wind and a wave of sadness rushes over me. I contemplate how many horses I myself, broke and started in that pen before my condition rendered me unable to do what I had spent my whole life loving and doing. I miss it terribly, some days more than others and watching and listening to other people enjoy a life that is lost to me is hard...especially when they are doing it in my space. I wipe a selfish tear from my eye and look back towards Cletus. He seems to sense my sadness and comes to lay down next to me. Burying my face and hands in his fur, I thank God for the life He has preserved for me. If I did not have the animals to keep me company while Randyman is working, I think it would be unbearable. I chide myself for having a bad attitude. I no longer use the roundpen for riding horses, but I could break it down and make smaller pens out of it for my sheep and goats. I decide to see if the boss wants it and if so, maybe we can work something out. At least if its no longer my own, it won’t hurt so much to see it damaged. There was sentimental attachment to it, as it was a gift from someone very important and very dear to me, but that someone is somebody I won’t get to see again. Some memories are better left behind, or they become toxic and eat a hole in your heart like a cancer.

Cider came over with a ‘hand-picked’ cowpie and sets it down next to me, expecting me to throw it. I roll my eyes at him and find a bone, and substitute it instead. He runs and picks it up, then heads off through the grass exploring. He comes back, offering a stick. I throw it and he returns, his body covered in mud. 

I finally pull myself to my feet and head back up the hill to the corral. The sheep and dogs walk slowly with me and we eventually arrive. I leave them behind as I head through the gate with Cider and go back in the house. Still feeling a little desolate and foggy headed, I tell him to stay outside and dry off.

I stumble to the couch to check my email on the laptop,and find that I scored a butterchurn on ebay. That makes me smile, as I have been wanting and needing one for a couple of years. Making butter 3x a week in the Kitchenaid hasn’t been all that bad, but its a good bit of work cleaning up and I also have to use my hands and wrists a lot to wash the butter. I should be able to do a lot more of that in the churn now, so I am excited for it to get here.

I look up and notice Cider is not outside, but laying on my newly cleaned carpet. I jump up and open the back door and tell him he has to go out. He sneaks around the other side of the kitchen table and heads for the bedroom. I growl at him and he stops, turns around and heads for the service porch, sighing dejectedly as he slumps down on the dog bed. 

I can't help but laugh at him, then I think about my new butter churn again.

Even the most lowly days have their high points.


This is the second day in a row of this strange stormy weather. That said, the weather is always a bit strange in this valley anyway. It can be sunny at our house and snowing at the bottom of the pasture. The dark clouds still cover the sky, but today there is a huge rainbow over the range. Bruno accompanies us as Cider and I go out to visit Cletus and the sheep. Cletus is beside himself to have Bruno there to play with again. I sit on the grass and the pups surround me, clowning around and teasing me unmercifully.

 I move down by the big 'octopus tree'. It's a huge tree with several thick trunks growing like tentacles along the ground. It makes for a handy seat to watch the goings ons and the antics of the 'polar bears'. They play chase and tumble and knock one another over at breakneck speeds, flipping and grabbing throats, legs, or whatever it takes to win the battle. The sheep graze on contentedly, not the least bit worried as the two dogs blaze a trail between them.

They finally wear themselves out and take up stations on opposite sides of the sheep. Bruno is watching from above, close to my observation post and Cletus has gone several hundred yards further down the pasture, beyond the sheep. They both sit quietly, eyes scanning the surrounding area. It has been drizzling for awhile and now it has stopped, so I gather up my things and head back up the hill to the house. 

Rosemary sees me and comes running from way down where the sheep are grazing. She continues to follow on my heels all the way to the corral, across the back yard, up on the porch and into the kitchen. She stands at my side and DEMANDS  a bottle. It's not time for her evening bottle yet, but I can't resist her so I heat up her bottle and allow her to have 1/3 of it early. I hear a vehicle race past the front of the house and as I look out I see both Maremma's racing past. They think I have left. I call their names and they stop, spinning around in surprise to see me behind them. We return to the pasture and resume our places in the grass.

As we lay in the gentle drizzle, I could hear a roaring coming from far away. Living in this valley, under the 10,000 ft. faultblock, our weather can become very turbulent, very quickly. The wind blows often, and blows strongly, but every now and then, it tunnels up the valley, contained by the mountains and charges through like a freight train, and that is exactly what it sounded like.

Cider and I made it to the house just before the first strong gust hit. I could hear it whistling around the little rock house we live in, through the gaps in the doorways and past the rock wall as dirt, tumbleweeds, tin from a building and other things went whirling past. I saw Emma’s shelter begin to heave as if breathing heavily as she stood at her feeder and watched. The wind continued to build and blow. The sheep ran into the corral with the dogs, but I didn’t see Stewie and his mother Madge. I ran out to find them, dirt blinding me temporarily as it blew and scratched its way into my eyes and my long hair whipped about painfully. I fought my way through the dead orchard but didn’t find them. Returning to the corral, I found she had already taken Stewie to shelter under the big cattle panels. EmmaLouMoo continued standing at her feeder, watching her own shelter blowing chaotically in the wind. Normally she takes cover in there every time it rains or snows, or anything disagreeable is taking place.  I drug out what hay I could find and stuffed it down deep into feeders, hoping it would stay long enough for the animals to get some sustenance from it. When I was finished, Emma’s shelter was gone. She was standing in the ruins of it, with her eyes agog, and her tongue hanging out. She was making awful noises, as though she was gagging or choking, and was breathing heavily. The heavy gate panel doorway to the milking shed was bending towards us, the wind beating against the backside of it unrelentingly. I made my way to Em with a halter, and once getting it on her, I realized she wasn’t choking at all, but was just terrified. The tarp which had once protected her was wrapped around her legs, whipping her madly and she had no sanctuary left to turn to. Bruno accompanied me as I led her through the large corrals and out to the old orchard where she and Dolly used to take cover. She ran to the back corner, seeming to find solace there. There is no longer any fence down the side of the orchard but I didn’t think she would be going anyplace, anytime soon. I cried a little for her, knowing how scared and lonesome she felt without Dolly here. As I returned, Randyman had shown up and together we tried to brace up the heavy panels that threatened to blow down and crush anything in their path. It took two of us to close the door after opening it to see if it would let off some of the pressure. It didn’t. We came back to the house, bringing the dogs in with us, as there was nothing they could do out there and having more animals in danger of being hit with flying debris just didn’t make much sense. Surprisingly, we never lost power. Randyman said it was gusting 70-80 mph.

I prayed for Emma and the animals and we settled down for the night, with popcorn, 4 big dogs in the house, and the wind howling outside.

I woke up at midnite to a sudden stillness. The wind had finally spent its fury. I let the dogs out and donning a sweatshirt and flashlight went to the orchard to find Em. I moved her into the big hay corral where she could safely spend the rest of the night, and let the dogs patrol. All the sheep seemed fine, as did the goats. Grateful for no injuries and minimum damage I headed back to the house.

The sun rose high and the air was crisp with a blue sky. After milking EmmaLou, I put the calves in the hay corral and set about to rebuilding and repairing her little tent shelter. I sandwiched the big tarp between cattle panels which I then wired together so the next time the wind blows, there is nowhere for the tarps to go. Of course, the likely scenerio is that everything will flip over but in a wind as strong as last night's there just isn’t a defense. This will do for normal weather.

I let the goats in with the sheep but Peebody the buck and Ray the Ram got into a terrible tussle and as Peebody has horns, he was not just butting, but hooking. I got ahold of his horns and front legs and with his front legs on either side of me, I towed him back to the goat pen alone. Ray felt the two doe goats were intruders and has been valiantly defending his little flock from them. They are fairly evenly matched weight wise, all weighing about 150 lb each so I let them be. As they butted heads at the top of the pasture, the pups were down with the ewes and lambs by the Octopus tree. I looked up and saw one of the visitor’s dogs in the pasture by the corral. Bruno and Cletus saw it too. They took off running and stopped, about 100 ft apart and 100 ft short of it. There was no way it was going to be able to get past them to the sheep. The dog paid little attention to them, so they advanced again, this time with a warning bark. This time the dog looked at them. Not seeming to be of a disposition to leave, they charged the dog a third time and the dog turned tail and ran, taking the shortest route back into the horse corral. The pups stopped where they were, satisfied that justice had been served and after checking the area where the dog had been thoroughly, they went back to the sheep. I hugged them and told them how proud I was of them, as they not only removed the intruder, but they didn’t  use anymore force than was necessary. They ramped it up each time they had to, but they used good discretion. I laid down in the sun, with my arms around Bruno, and I thought I felt Cletus laying on the other side of me. Now and then he would nuzzle me, but I was too weary to roll over yet. Finally, I turned my head and saw that it wasn’t Cletus at all, but Rosemary. She had snuggled up with us and stretched her neck out in ecstasy as I scratched her under the chin.

I looked up to see Randyman at the fence. He was laughing at the antics of Ray and the goats. Prissy, the evil doe, bit Ray and came up with a mouth full of wool. That’s what she gets for biting a hair sheep, it comes out!!

We headed back to the house with Rosemary at our heels and I made her a bottle while Randyman made lunch.

Afterwards, Rosemary followed us back out to the corral and Randy put all the huge gates back where they had been before the wind. He left and I went to check on Emma, who was laying down, sunning herself. She’s been very itchy lately, so I found a stiff brush, and laying with her, scratched her neck and chin for her. She lolled her head with her eyes closed and then wrapped her neck back around me as if to show her appreciation.

It was really my pleasure.

It always seems so serene after a storm. 

I think the rest of the day, we will all just rest in the quiet warmth of the sun, under the watchful eye of our Protector.

One Day in September

Things have been cooling off considerably. Fall is in the air. Emma Lou has a new suitor. The boss sent an AkaUshi bull over for her, whom we named Mr Miyagi. He was a one night stand. He courted her, piqued her interest and when the sun came up, he was gone. I am sure this did nothing for Emma’s self esteem. She is putting on a brave front though.

The cowboss brought her another beau. This guy was pretty big. He never made it from behind the barn, because he was too snorty and our boss is a great guy and wouldn’t put me in that kind of position. A third bull was delivered, along with 2 of Emma’s heifer friends, Rio and Cholula. They are both orphans that we raised on Emma’s mother, DollyMoo, so they know each other well. They are beef cows and are much larger than  Em’s little Jersey-self, but she doesn’t put on airs.  She is a humble little cow. We figured the two extra cows could feed Lover- boy’s ego while Emma is gone for 15 minutes getting milked. You know how men are.  Miyagi couldn’t handle not being the constant center of attention.

The next morning, I looked out to see Emma Lou, Rio, Cholula, and little Mo, but no bull. I brought Em and Mo in to do the daily milking. I caught Wimpy so I could ride out to find the missing bull again, but before I saddled up, I saw TWO bulls in the big pasture behind the old milk barn. Not two AkaUshis, but beau #3 and  a big old Charolais.

 I was not thrilled to have 2 bulls with my tiny Jersey, and less thrilled to think she could be bred by a Charolais. Lucky for me, he was lame and had a cough, so I summoned the cowboss to look at him and he decided to move him out to the horse pasture until he could be shipped with the cull cows. Back down to one bull and feeling relieved. 

As if we weren't fortunate enough to just be living here on the ranch and having a great boss with a really neat family to work for, we also are blessed that he is letting Em date an AkaUshi bull. This breed is very rare and highly controlled. The only purebred herd in the United States is in Texas. The meat from these cattle is unique in that it actually lowers cholesterol

and is healthier for you than chicken and turkey. It is heavily marbled, however, and extremely tender. It sells for about $95 for a 6 oz filet...unprepared. Ground beef goes for $6 a lb. We are hoping against hope for a heifer because we need a milk cow that will be lower maintenance than Emma and Dolly. Right now, Em gets full time pasture, of course, in addition to alfalfa hay, and 20 lbs a day of grain and supplements! This is just to try and maintain her condition while she makes 6 gallons of milk a day. The milk is awesome but it don't come cheap!

A Jersey/beefer cross would probably produce a lot less milk, but would hopefully maintain condition on hay and pasture. That would be a huge savings for us and the resulting calves would make better freezer calves to boot. Em will always be my special cream cow though. She did do a good job on her first calf, Fat Willy. He's 1/2 Angus and at 3 mo. is almost as big as she is!

He has an affinity for hotdogs.

I really think he just wants to eat anything that is in front of him.


The leppies are in the process of being weaned, as I have got to get everyone more independent. I have a very important and special trip to make. There is a new VIP for me to meet and my little Abster is a big sister now! Kinley Grace arrived last Saturday night. She is gonna help her sister shake up the world. I know they have been shaking up the household as I hear no one there has gotten to sleep before 3 a.m. yet. Personally, I think a couple of chickens and a pet cow would solve the problem, but I'm having a hard time convincing their folks.

I digress.

Another day went by and I woke up to find TWO BULLS again! This time, Mr Miyagi showed up again and was chumming around with  the Bachelor #3. I have since dubbed the pasture “The Oyster Bar”. It seems to be feast or famine for poor Emma Lou. She’s taking it out on me. This morning she gave me 2 1/2  gallons of milk, and not a drop of cream. Luckily, I still had some from last week, so today I made peppermint ice cream, which is MY favorite.

Our new sheep are here. They are CUTE as buttons. I wanted Katahdin ewes and a Dorper ram, but no Katahdins were to be found. So we have 3 little Dorper ewes and a Dorper ram.  Both breeds are ‘hair sheep’. Instead of having to deal with shearing and tail docking, these sheep will shed in the summer. They are more parasite resistant, better foragers, mature earlier, they are not seasonal breeders and because of the lack of wool and lanolin, they taste sweeter and don’t get that strong muttony flavor so many people dislike. This is all research info, I have yet to know this for myself, but I look forward to finding out. What I do know for certain, is that these guys are cute, really cute. They are not nearly as flighty and silly as my other sheep. They are very courageous for their small size and they are voracious eaters. We tossed them a flake of hay and it was like a feeding frenzy. Piranhas would not have been more focused on their feasting. They took right up with the other 3 sheep and have settled in like old timers. I have no idea when they are due to lamb, but it will be fun and I know the pups will be so excited to have babies to watch over again. They love their critters as much as I do. Maybe even more. Cletus just KNEW there was something special in the trailer when it got here last nite. I had a heck of a time dragging him back to the house so we could unload these guys without them having a panic attack from seeing their first “Polar bear”.

Cletus so wants to be a sheep. He'll do anything to blend in...

Cletus and Bruno introduced themselves at the first opportunity. They got bopped in the nose by one little ewe, but undeterred, they checked each one out, did a perimeter patrol and went to take their morning naps.

Time for me to clean up the house, and turn the cheeses. We have 2 more wheels of Pepper-Jack and a Parmesan curing. The Pepper-Jack is ready in another month. The first one I made tasted pretty darn good. The Parmesan has to cure for 10 months, so I hope it turns out well, as I need to keep making it so its always on hand. Darn its great having a cow. But I do still miss DollyMoo so very much.

I peeked out after doing the dishes and found a large snail trail on the porch. Looking down, I found the culprit.

He keeps climbing in the whiskey barrel waterfall and using it as his personal spa. I’m not sure why, but it makes him smell like stinky feet. I wonder if they make “Odor Eaters” for dogs....

Past the Walls

 

It is a beautiful day. The sun shines down through puffy clouds set against a blue backdrop. The first robins are hopping about, the chickens are scratching up all the dirt and leaves in the back yard and the rest of the animals are wandering around eating the lush spring grass that has come at last. I puttered around the large lower pasture for awhile because Cletus had come back up to the house alone.

It has been their habit throughout the winter to seek out a particular group of  yearling calves they had assigned themselves charge of. As the calves, like the rest of the cattle here, are frequently moved to different pastures across the thousands of acres of ranch, it sometimes takes awhile before the pups locate them and do their patrol through them. The calves have since been relocated to a ranch 2 hours away and it has been my concern the pups might just keep traveling, as they are very determined. I let them out on patrol for the first time since the calves have been gone and to my dismay, they didn’t come back that night. They weren’t in the corral by dinner. At midnite, I shone my flashlight out there and still no pups. My heart sank. Next morning, myself and visiting family members of the smaller persuasion, went out to feed lambs, calves and milk the goats. The pups came blasting up from the lower pasture and happily greeted us. Their faces were covered in blood, not their own. I assumed they had either gotten into a tangle with a coyote which was easily won, or found and stole a fresh kill. Usually, they drag their trophies home, but I didn’t see anything with them this time.

I allowed them their freedom to come and go, and they have remained close in and watchful over their lambs and goats. This morning Cletus came in alone and I began to worry about Bruno, as they are rarely far from one another. I asked Cletus to take me to him and he turned and walked back the direction from which he came, as if he understood me perfectly. After about ½ mile, with the lambs and goats following, I saw Bruno, struggling mightily to pull something through the fence. It was, indeed a stolen kill and the carcass was still quite large. It is the nature of Livestock Guardian Dogs to eat dead stock, even if it had previously been one of their charges, because failure to do so would attract predators. As their patrol a fairly large area, they tend to bring things closer to home, so they can keep an eye on the animals in their charge. They were both quite pleased to show me what they’d brought and I gave them the high praise they deserved for undertaking such a Herculean task as dragging this thing all the way home and through dense sagebrush and a wire fence.

I headed back to the house, the pups leading the lambs and goats along, as they clearly didn’t feel the low end of the pasture was the ideal place for little lambs. The lambs are becoming a bit more independent and courageously wander out through the gate to graze in the big pasture amongst the tall grass, cows and adult goats.

I came back out a couple of hours later and greeted Cletus and Bruno, who were sleeping by the pens. I heard the lambs start to cry at the sound of my voice, but couldn’t see them. They continued to cry out and even though I knew they were safe enough with the pups around, I went off in search of them. The pens behind our house are quite large, and one end  is solid fence, which dips back in an “L” shape. I could tell the lambs had wandered outside and behind there and did not know the way to find me, once they realized I was near. They had been feeling happy and self reliant, until they heard me and realized they had wandered far and in their minds, become irretrievably lost.

I went through the large corrals to the pasture gate and walked the 100 or so yards down the fence line. I stepped past the end of the fence and called to them and they responded by running to me, surrounding me and crowding one another, each trying to be the closest. 

We walked back a little ways, but I found the green grass and the warm sun too tempting, myself. So I eased myself down, Cletus came and offered himself as a pillow and the lambs went back to contentedly grazing, this time keeping their eyes fixed on me.

As I lay there, I thought about how He said,

“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me”. (John10:27)

Once again, He used an example of my own life that I could understand. I often wander off, consumed by the moment, or whatever is commanding my attention and lose sight of Him.. It is when He is able to help me “hear” His voice, or “see” His face, I come running back, knowing that HE is the one who cares for, and takes care of, me. He heard my cry and He came for me. HE is the one who leads me to the best places, guiding me to what really nourishes and brings me the abundant life. I gratefully rested in His shadow and contemplated all He has done to prove that to me.

“Good Friday” is more often than not, a gloomy day for me. The awareness and remembrance of the suffering He took on, in my behalf, tears at my heart and conscience. Regret for my part of His pain squeezes until its almost a physical ache sometimes. My actions, my falling short, were so serious, so costly, the punishment so severe, the pain of the penalty so indescribable, that they had to create a new word for it. “Excruciating”. It means, literally, “out of the Cross.”

“Good Friday” hardly seems  appropriate. But it is always followed by the best day ever, the anniversary of the empty tomb.

 Resurrection.

 Death didn’t win. The enemy didn’t win. My sin didn’t outweigh His power or compassion. He didn’t abandon me to myself. He knew I was lost and He came past my walls to show me the way Home.