I should have known better. It was actually my fault. When Curtis’ alarm went off at 4:00 a.m., I decided that since he didn’t want breakfast, I could stay in bed until 5:30. I mean, after all, 5:30 a.m. is still a respectable wake up time. ESPECIALLY ON A FRIDAY. But I pulled the covers over my head and intermittently snoozed for another 90 minutes. Please note that it was not deep, meaningful, restful sleep. No, this was more like rebelliously lying in bed refusing to get up in the 4:00 hour.
Languishing in the fact that it was Friday and I got to “sleep in,” I slowly made my way to the kitchen and started my morning ranch latte. Putzing around the house, doing my inside chores and then sat down at my desk with my coffee to get a little work done before I did the chores. Glancing at my schedule, I reminded myself of my busy afternoon: 12:15 teach spinning class, leave by 11:30 this was followed by a massage at 1:30 and then another spinning class to teach to wrap up the end of the day at 4:30 before picking up some groceries.
Yes. Yes, you did read that right. A massage. Another way to celebrate Friday and to work on the knots in my shoulders. Before you roll your eyes, go get one! You’ll be a staunch massage defender like me! We may even have to start our own Association – Northern Most Massage Association Defenders or NoMoMAD for short.
I made it through a couple of my transcription accounts and decided that, since the sun was bright and shiny at 7:00, I could go feed. The sun was shining, there was no wind and it looked like a perfect day out. I was getting an early enough start that I felt confident about getting a lot of my work done before I went into town for the afternoon.
I sprang Dottie from her kennel (she had lavished in the perfume of the decaying body of something in the pasture a few days before and was, well, rrrripe!), and off we went to start the chores. I looked out to see how far the heifers were and immediately noted that something was wrong. Hoping beyond hope that I was wrong or even going blind, I looked again. Nothing. Crickets. Always full of hope, I loaded up the feed and drove off into the pasture. Maybe they were tucked into a ravine? Or just over the slope of that hill? Under the tree? Nope, nope and nope.
What was I going to tell Curtis? Honey! I lost the heifers today! How was your day? I drove around the pasture trying to determine which hole they crawled out of and decided it was right at the end of the area of fence that Curtis had just repaired. There was 100 yards of old, sagging fence with some wires going up and some wires going down that just whispered to the curious calves, “come here, come here little girl….”
Sigh. I am not sure why the nagging female in me didn’t put my hands on my hips and stomp my foot a bit like I was trying to start a motorcycle and “encourage” Curtis to finish fixing that fence to the end when he had been working on it before. Weak moment. My fault. Won’t happen again.
What could I do? There were still other cows and bulls that needed to be fed, so that is what I did. I went and gave the horses their oats and finally listened to the little voice in my head that told me to lock them up just in case I would need to get one saddled. Then I fed the “heavies,” the moms who had not yet had their babies. Just as I was getting ready to go into the pasture with the pairs, who do I see but 10 little giggly girls wanting to know where I am going with their cake. Heifers.
Quickly changing my mind, I pulled the truck through the yard hopefully, expectantly calling the girls with the idea that maybe they would crawl back through the gap they crawled out of. I jumped out and spread three bales out and then silently cussed myself for not grabbing fencing pliers when I was at the house. I needed pliers to make a “gate” for the heifers to get back into the pasture! Using my MacGyver skills, I grabbed a hay hook and a bent, rusty 10-penny nail and made my way to the fence.
While the heifers were frolicking through the fields up the hill towards the fence, I used my only advantage – thumbs – and somehow miraculously managed to get the wire holdy things off of the fence and pulled the wires up and down to make an even bigger opening in the fence. The opening had to be screaming to the calves now, “COME HERE LITTLE GIRL!”
To top this all off, I grabbed the bucket full of “cake” and started rattling it, like some mother hen clucking for her babies to come home and eat. “C’mon girls, c’mon!” It wasn’t long and I had 10 curious faces standing at the edge of the doorway I had made for them and me on the other side tempting them with the bucket. I would let one stick her head in and taste and then pull it closer to me. But they wouldn’t make the crossing.
Frustrated, I decided I had better finish my feeding chores before the bulls started wondering where their hay was and wander up to where the heifers were. It would not take much for one of the bulls to get out and want to have some fun with the girls – at which point I would be completely and utterly helpless. I also needed to close the gate at the end of the pasture to prevent the bulls from getting into the heifer pasture if they were to get out. I fed the bulls as far away from the excitement as I could and then rushed over and fed the pairs. I was in too much of a hurry to count. There was a little calf out of place and I made a mental note to make sure the newest baby in the herd was where he/she/it should be before I left this morning.
Oh no! I have to leave this morning! Okay, let’s make this quick.
I went back out to the heifers and to my delight, five of them had given up life on the lam and were munching away on the hay. Okay, halfway there! Yeah! Dottie and I made our way back to the entryway and started once again trying to coerce the heifers back. After about 30 minutes of yelling and running and giving commands to the dog and her makers, we had two more back where they should be.
I won’t lie. At that point, I was seriously thinking that 7 out of 10 back into their pasture wasn’t bad. And really, what were 3 heifers anyway? Maybe the neighbors needed them after all. Knowing what I needed to do but not wanting to do it, I made my way to the house. That nice cool morning had quickly changed into a blazing sun, lip-chapping, thirst making kind of day. Dottie and I both grabbed a drink and I did a little pacing/talking to myself routine that I have seen Curtis do 100 times. You have to go into the house, go back out of the house, and then go back in like five times to make up your mind. “I need help.” AND. I need to call the gym and let them know I won’t be able to make the class at noon.
Thank the powers that be for social media. I did not have Curtis’ buddy, TJ’s, phone number but we were friends on Facebook so I popped him a quick message and THANKFULLY he had his phone on. While my fingers were busy with that conversation, I picked up the phone and called the gym. I quickly explained my situation to the girl at the desk and she attempted to find a supervisor. When one couldn’t be found, she said she would have them call me back. Trying to be as sweet as I could, I said the plan out loud so now even I had to believe it. “I have to go saddle a horse, push the heifers back in and repair the fence.”
Now, to someone who has not ever realized that cows can’t tell time and respect their human’s schedules, it seemed incredulous to her that I was calling in with my problem. She sighed and tried to find someone else. A few moments later, she got back on the line and reassured me that she will have someone call me as soon as they get out of their meeting. “I am going to be on a horse in the middle of a pasture chasing cows. I won’t have my phone with me.” Crickets. “How about Jodi, is Jodi there?”
Ahhh. Thank you Jodi. She bubbled onto the phone, “Hi Tammi! Are you having a bad day?” I quickly explained everything although, from her response, I knew she had already heard some version of it already. I reassured her that I would be there for the 4:30 class and then got back to talking with TJ. Thankfully he was out and about and could be here within an hour or so. I was sure that would be enough time because I still had to go get the horse, saddle the horse, go down the driveway, down the road and through the neighbor’s fence.
I called the neighbor and asked her kindly not to shoot me as I went to get the heifers off her land. She seemed amenable to that so I had just one call left and it was the one I was dreading. I had to cancel my massage. I will have you know, I did it without crying. At least while I was on the phone.
Out the door I went. I even remembered my spurs. I did manage to get Snort caught and saddled although, thankfully, there were no saddling police nearby as I am pretty sure I would have gotten a ticket for something. I do have some pretty healthy biceps but obviously not enough to man-handle the saddle around on top of the saddle blankets. Telling Snort how great she was and thanking her in advance for taking care of me, I put my chaps on and started the journey.
Down the driveway, out on the county road and four gates later, I was on the neighbor’s land. Making our way through the creek and over the hill to the heifers, I was trying to quickly determine a game plan. A horse and a dog. Those were my weapons. Oh, and my frontal lobe. We can do this.
Thankfully two more of the heifers did manage to see how futile it was to try to out run Snort. Not that it was easy but they did get back in and start eating with their other co-conspirators. Of all heifers, Daisy Mae, my little eat out of the bucket let-me-pet-her, Daisy Mae refused to see the cavity in the fence and was the last one out. I would run to catch her up the hill and send Dot to catch her going down the hill.
At one point, my voice was hoarse, my horse was breathing hard and Dot was dragging butt. This was going to be a long morning. Suddenly, the horse, the calf and Dot all started looking past me and to the north. I turned around to see what they were looking at and saw TJ walking up through the pasture with his dog. Oh thank heavens.
It should not take two dogs, one horse and two beings with frontal lobes 30 minutes to convince one four-legged critter with a very small brain to crawl through the fence. However, now I am sure that it would have just taken me a couple of days.
I have to share this with you though. It was magic. TJ and his dog are one. TJ says “GET OUTTA THERE” and the dog backs off. He talked that dog through the entire process and towards the end, Ice, Dot, Snort and I were all taking commands from TJ, although I am pretty sure he was just talking to his dog, Ice. “Way! Come around! Lay down. Easy. Easy. Lay down! Way! Lay down. Easy. Easy.” He worked that heifer right through the fence. I wish I would have been able to film it. Truly an art work.
Not only is TJ a master of dogs, he has spent his time around fences. So with a rusty pair of pliers that I had shoved in a saddle pack, he fixed the fence like he was making coffee. He made it look so easy. Again. That would have taken me a week. We salvaged whatever materials were around and pretty soon, the fence wasn’t so inviting.
I was ever so thankful that Curtis had such great friends. We are lucky in the western way of life that we do look out for one another. And today I got a first-hand look at that and I vowed to myself that I would be a lot more springy the next time someone asked for help.
It was just before noon when TJ left to get on with his day. I took Snort a couple more rounds through the pasture looking for the new calf without luck. So rather than continuing to torture the fat horse, I unsaddled her and let her go. Then I walked out in the pasture and started looking myself. Eventually I did find the little turd, curled up in the base of a tree as safe as could be.
All is well.
As I went back into the house, I couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was. Everything was in place and happy. Dot tenderly made her way in and collapsed in an instant nap. I went to work and thought about when I used to sit with my friends over a cup of coffee in one of those coffee shops and talk about how busy I was.
