Walk Softly and Carry a Big Stick

Handsome Dude is turning into a Mini-David.

Me to David as they are both searching on Craigslist for great deals on heifers:  I don’t think I can handle two of you.

The child cannot handle idle time.  He is actually quite annoying if he does not have tasks to complete and he enjoys life much better when I give him an extra chore list.

For example:  today.

Today, all the planets have aligned and it is just he and I at home. All. Day.  Long.

I informed him at 7am, 8:15am, 9:00am, 11:00am, 11:15am, 1:00pm, 2:00pm, and 3pm that “No, we are not going anywhere.”

Ruiner of life, I am.  Oh, I have chored him up.  He has vacuumed.  He has tidied.  He has cleaned nesting boxes and filled chicken waters.  He has cleaned out cow manure and laid fresh hay down.  He has fed the horses and bovine.  He has given water to the horses and bovine.  He has killed flies inside and out. He has gathered dirty laundry and trash.  He has brushed his teeth in the middle of the day simply because I told him to (all 11 year old boys need all the extra brushing they can get).

Why am I the ruiner of life?  Because I have shot down his two most favorite options for today:

1.  Go float in the lake (sounds lovely, but I am switching to teacher mode and I got stuff to do, man) (Like try to plan out my Science lesson plans for the year and then switch to blogging)
2. Get on the Bobcat and pull out tree stumps in the back of the property (um, wait until Dad gets home for that one, bud.)

I just got in trouble because the only instrument we have in the house is a dumb piano (?) and he  just asked me if tomorrow is going to be as boring as today.

Well, I surely hope not.

***

Let us discuss Tiny Tim, shall we?  Yes, my calf.  David told me last night that we should have put him down a long time ago.

I know, friends.  I know. But, we must forgive him for his comment.  Perhaps he was hangry?

Last night, while David and HD were, wait for it . . . pulling tree stumps out of the back of the property . . . I decided to go and encourage Tiny Tim to nurse.  This is my new life.  My old life was feeding him two bottles a day.  My new life is stressing out because I don’t seem him nursing often, and now that I am old and 37, I fret about calves getting enough nutrition.  Honestly, it was easier to bottle feed.

Tiny Tim is kind of dumb.  There.  I said it.  It’s like he doesn’t know how to be a cow.  Probably because he had me for his mother and I don’t know how to be a cow either.  It is like every day, you must invite him to eat.  Like the thought would never occur to him on his own.  I have to go find him and lead him to the mama cow.  I have to orchestrate the nursing meet up.

Meanwhile, in this same pasture, I have 2 large horses, Bessie the mama cow, Stupid Steve the Steer (more on him later), the bull calf, and Tiny Tim.

In this photo from left to right, you will see Tiny Tim, the unnamed bull calf, and Stupid Steve the Steer.  Stupid Steve is about to headbutt the bull calf.  We aren’t fans of Stupid Steve.

The bull calf sometimes gets a bit possessive over Bessie.  Stupid Steve jumps on top of Bessie all the time.  He also jumps on the bull calf and head butts the bull calf and my Tiny Tim.  It can get a bit chaotic out there.

So, last night as I was trying to orchestrate the nursing meet up, I had trouble with Stupid Steve head butting my calf and trying to head butt me.

Oh, yes.  He tries.  I whack him on the nose with a stick when he tries that nonsense with me.

Stand down, Readers!  You would do it, too!  He headbutted Little Dude once and he was thrown against a horse water tank.  It was no good.  So now I must walk softly and carry a big stick at all times during the orchestration of the nursing meet up.  Do you see why I prefer bottles yet?

So, I find David on the bobcat and tell him I need help.  Basically I want David to whack Stupid Steve on the nose and watch my back while I lead my calf who is lacking “street smarts” to the udder.

This was annoying to David and he wonders when we are going to give up on the calf and let him “sink or swim.”

I know, I know.  Again-maybe he was hangry?

Maybe he is right?  I don’t know.  But I will tell you that I did not lift that calf up every day to feed, hold his tongue in place, drive him to the vet in my car, and tube feed him to give up at this point.  I can’t help but wonder if Tiny Tim would do better if Stupid Steve wasn’t around Bessie and maybe he would nurse better.  But seriously, what do I know?  Truly nothing.  No idea what I am doing.  At all.

So, this morning.

This morning, I looked out the window and saw the black horse nudging Tiny Tim.  Tiny Tim looked dead.  So I hurried out and when I got out there, the black horse was biting him and picking him up by his neck and leg about 5 feet in the air and then dropping him.

Over and over! It was awful.

I ran out there and threw sticks at the horse and got him away.  I stood there keeping all other animals away.  With my big stick, of course. For about 20 minutes, Tiny Tim just laid there, but I finally got him to stand up and I got him penned up away from all the other animals. He doesn’t seem to be badly hurt over his ordeal and I totally chewed out the black horse.  That’ll show him!

When I called David this morning during my “event”, he was kind and loving about the situation (obviously no longer hangry) and when he gets home tonight, I am under the impression we are moving Bessie, the bull calf, and Tiny Tim to an empty pig pen area to see if that will help the situation.

So, there’s that.

I start back to work Monday!

Sweet Pea starts TENTH grade Monday!

Daisy Mae starts NINTH grade at a new high school in a couple weeks.  She tried out and made the volleyball team!  Like a champ!

Handsome Dude is still driving me nuts!  Oh, and he is starting a NEW MIDDLE SCHOOL soon!

Little Dude is starting 5th grade!

No one has time to care for cattle!

The End.