Mr. Robbinson

A chill wind was blowing yesterday. I'm pretty sure that it wasn't the wind Mr. Robbins talks so Shakespearean about. Bundled up, coffeed up, and fed up (not a good idea when spending a day on a young and rough riding horse) we set out to grab some pairs in the Graf pasture that will be shipped on Friday. We had a couple of stray pairs that didn't belong, so after we cut them out we headed on out. Inevitably a couple of calves made their way to the wrong side of the fence. Naturally they didn't do so well finding their way back. After 30 minutes or so of throwing a lot of empty loops, we managed to get them back to momma. The rest of the trip went smooth and no more inept roping was needed on my part.

We made it to the pen and sorted of some stray heifer yearlings that came over from the north for a visit as a result of the previous night's rain that shorted out the electric fence. Another couple of light pairs were sorted off and replaced with some from a different pasture. Now we were ready to seperate the calves and work the cows.

As I mentioned before I was riding my younger horse Cooper. At times he goes by many names. B. S. is one of them. (Big and slow, what did you think that stood for?) He's good for gathering in the pasture, but painfully slow in the cutting pen. Part of the problem is my legs are too long to spur well, that and I need to add an L to the BS. I bet you can figure out what the L stands for. We got the job done though and in the end that's what matters most.

The cows were worked and reunited with their babies and put out to pasture to await the truck on Friday. The day help gathered their horses and scedaddled perty quick (I think they had had enough of the chill wind), and I went home, took the family to dinner at the Chinese/Mexican restaurant, had a hot shower, and finished the day on the Homemedics massaging back cushion (stupid horse). All in all a good day down on the Tailgate Ranch.