Sorry For What I Said When We Were Working Cattle

HD just had a birthday. He is now 17, if you can believe such a thing.

He used to look like this:

I am not sure what happened?

The night before he turned 17, the boys had their basketball awards night. HD received an award for “Most Inspirational Player.” He was sort of thrown into the point guard position this year, and he really grew into it. The team was struggling mid season, and the coaches told him he needed to have a talk with the team and instructed him on the changes they needed to see from the different players. He was quite nervous about it, but he did it. And it . . . worked? I mean, they were kind of tanking and were 5th overall in their league and they came back to play in the championship game.

LD received Most Improved-and he bought this snazzy button down for the awards ceremony with his very own money. Muy guapo.

And then there is our Hadley Beth who turned 20. I mean. How is this even possible?

She and Lily came home for a weekend, and I’ll tell you what . . . adult children are SURE SOMETHING.

(Lily left, Hadley right)

Adult children are tricky. Because you can no longer be the boss of them. And I so desperately want to be the boss.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . .

David and I were preparing to go on a trip to Mexico.

Yes. You heard me.

Mexico.

Right before we left, Babs, our nicest cow who lets us pet her, started to have rectal prolapse. When I came in from checking the cows and had noticed it, I saw HD first and told him.

HD: Let’s get out there! We need to save her!

Because, Reader. We all love Babs.

Me: I am not sure what we are going to do exactly. We need to wait for Dad.

When David got home, we hopped in the side by side and I led him to where she was. David was prepared with supplies, including the longest latex glove known to man, and was ready and prepared to shove that rectum back in where it belonged.

But, alas. When we got to her, the rectum had retreated back inside of her.

?

So, we instructed the boys to keep an eye on her when we were gone and gave them the number of the vet in case it happened again, and off we toodled to Mexico.

Mexico was lovely. All we did was eat and lay by the pool, get something to eat, nap, read, eat, lay by the pool, get sunburned, eat, rest, read, eat, and then sometimes go and get second dinner. Because, all-inclusive.

I did not take many pictures. I was too busy reading and eating. I read 4 books!

One day, as I was literally standing in the pool and reading-living my best life, I noticed David was gone. And he was gone for awhile. Eventually I had to hop out of the pool and find the bathroom, and I noticed him hunkered down in a corner on his phone.

Me: What are you doing?

David: I am bidding on pigs at the livestock auction back home.

Me: While we are in Mexico?

David: Yeah. And I was getting terrible service by the pool.

Me: Well, you do you.

And I went back to the pool to read and eat and burn and eat.

After day 1 when I noticed I was burning a bit, I upped my sunscreen game. David refuses to lather sunscreen on himself, so by day 3, he was a bit red. One night, I was sitting by him and, Reader, I canNOT even describe the heat coming off of his body. He was like a space heater.

Me: I think you burned a bit, dude.

David: No. I am fine.

And then I had to move away from him and go read in a cooler place. Because I was starting to sweat a bit from his radiating heat.

So then we came home from Mexico and checked on the cows the very next morning and found that Babs was prolapsed again and it was a bit worse. David said he would not be able to push it back in at this point, because, and you had better sit down for this:

He is not a vet at all and we really have no idea what we are doing over here, ever.

And because he probably did not want to have a mutiny on his hands from his wife and children because they are all emotionally attached to this cow his wife named, Babs, he told me I could call a vet.

!

I know. He is getting soft in his old age.

Since it was a Saturday, our only option was to go to a university about 1.5 hours away that offers 24/7 vet services-but it is a teaching clinic, so students are working it, monitored by actual vets.

David says he is going to load Babs and since she is our easiest cow, he can do it himself and he will be ready in an hour.

Ha.

After a bit, I went out to check on him and saw things were not going swimmingly. And I am extremely helpful when it comes to loading livestock, so I jumped right in. Now David does this thing that I find absolutely maddening. He uses a rope to rope the cow and tie it up to a tree so he can put a halter on it. But if the cow pulls on it, the rope gets tight around the cows neck and can start to choke the cow. He did get the halter on and we hooked a couple of lead ropes to that-and when I say we, I, of course, mean David, and then we tried to pull her in.

Nope. She was not having it at all.

As David was trying to pull her in, he told me to grab the red paddle and start smacking her on the backside.

Me: GOT IT!

And I followed his directions and you can probably see him rolling his eyes from wherever you are, Reader, and he was like:

Taylor. You need to BEAT her with it.

And I was like, BEAT BABS? On her owie prolapsed bottom?

So David sighs the sigh of all sighs and ties up the rope and goes to smack her butt and I surely did not like that. No I did not.

We wave the white flag and call out the boys. So now each boy has a lead rope and David has the original CHOKING rope and I am in charge of the paddle beating and David at one point was so over me and my gentle tapping with the paddle and told me to quit and just go hold the door to the trailer. So I took my walk of shame and went and stood by the door where I proceeded to watch all peoples involved almost perish. And then, I became David’s very own PETA representative, yelling all the time when the rope got too tight around Babs’ neck and worried that someone was going to get kicked or crushed and then he got the winch and the rope was so tight and almost breaking and I was sure it was going to snap and the metal hook would fly and hit one of my boys in the head and it was all just so much for me. And everyone is stressed and fussy with each other and David and HD like to make sure everyone, meaning myself and LD, know how dumb we are and how we solely are responsible for the trials and tribulations we are encountering as we load Babs into the trailer. And yes, I am pretty sure I have like multiple run on sentences going on here, but I care not.

We get Babs loaded and now we have to find her calf. I am not the muscles of this operation, but I am definitely the brains, and I know exactly what calf number goes with Babs-it is Calf 125, if you must know, so off I go to find this calf. I find her in no time, because, again, I am the brains and then David and the boys come ripping over the hills in the side by side.

And now it is time to kidnap the calf.

The calf sees us and runs. We follow her. She notices she is being followed and is not a fan and gives chase. The four of us are strategically moving around to try and corner her. And we do. And she is terrified and leaps bawling into a barbed wire fence. David pulls her out and the kidnapping is officially in progress.

As soon as Calf 125 starts throwing her tantrum, every single mama cow loses her mind and starts towards us, because who do we think we are kidnapping this baby? LD is the side by side operator, David is the Chief Calf Kidnapper, and HD and I’s purpose is to keep the angry mamas at bay and make sure no one dies. So off we go and did you know that if you spread your arms wide and yell

HEY!

at a cow, they back off, even though if they kept going they could totally run you over and make you die a slow and painful death? Well, it is true and HD and I are doing a lot of yelling and running and I am happy to report we got Calf 125 loaded in the trailer with her mother and no one died, not even a little bit.

When it is all over, everyone goes back to normal and no one hates each other anymore and David is all,

“Thank you for your help.”

And I believe we all need shirts that read: “Sorry for what I said when we were working cattle.”

The boys had to go to work, so David and I alone took Babs and baby to the vet and by minute four he is already stressed about how much this is going to cost and is this worth it and I am trying to cheer him up, saying things like:

Well, maybe it will be an easy fix!

You can watch the procedure and learn how to do this yourself!

Maybe you will make a new friend!

What if they give you a FREE SUTURE KIT?!

The thought of a free suture kit calmed him right down. Do I know him, or do I know him?

We arrive and pull up. This vet school knows we are coming with a prolapsed cow and when we arrived one of the vet students came out, looked in our trailer, looked a bit taken aback and said,

“I thought this was a horse?”

And it was then that David’s mood dimmed a little.

He turned into grumpy rural farmer mode who doesn’t want to spend more than $1.35 on vet services on an animal that is maybe only worth 1000k if we take her to auction, TAYLOR. I follow another student into the lobby so I can register Babs.

A student is registering me and I tell her information such as, “This cow calved 13 days ago” only to have the student ask me two minutes later if this cow is a girl or a boy.

I come to David and the poor male vet student and this student thinks we would like to spend at least 10k to fix this beloved cow at all costs and David is trying to convey the cow is not worth much and the students are blinking at him and tell him he cannot come into the facility because his germs will compromise the environment.

David: They won’t let me in! They are fine with a ten year old cow who has been living outside in mud and poop to come in, but I cannot go in!

The actual vet comes out to talk to us and David expresses his great desire to watch the procedure and she says she will go and talk to the students and she was okay with it.

She came out a bit later to say she was sorry, but the students voted and they found him too intimidating and, no, he cannot come in.

So now David needs to know how much this is going to cost him, and the vet is handling him well and breaking down the costs and saying everything they will be doing.

Vet: We will give her a pain pill.

David: How much does THAT cost?

Vet: $10-$20

Me: SHE CAN HAVE A PAIN PILL

Vet: We will also be giving her antibiotics and giving you a prescription to take home with you.

David: I have LA200 at home!

Vet: Ok, we won’t give her antibiotics.

David: Are you sure I cannot watch?

Vet: The students do not want to do this while you are watching them.

So we went to Walmart! At Walmart I attempted to break down how David was being intimidating to the vet students. He was receptive to my thoughts but he still thinks it is dumb that he cannot watch. And then we got the call that Babs was ready and we came back. They were able to clean her up and pop that rectum right back in there. They did a little stitch to hold that bad boy in and gave us a few instructions.

Our stock trailer was backed up to the exterior side of Babs’ pen and it was time to load her up. Remember how easy that was the first time?

And the poor terrified male student looked at Babs, clapped his hands two times, and said to Babs:

“OK! Load up!”

He truly thought that she would heed his instructions and calmly walk right in. Almost as if she understood English words.

David lets out the sigh of all sighs and jumps the gate. He picks up the calf to make it throw a fit and walks it to the trailer. The sound of her calf crying brings rage upon Babs’ being and she starts to follow. And the students looked on in fear and awe.

Before we left, David thanked the vet, who kept her word of keeping the bill close to $200-it was $200.77, and said:

“I am sorry if I was rude.”

And she said:

“Don’t apologize to me. I just feel bad for your wife.”

When I relayed that line to the boys, HD spit his water out all over the counter.

Babs and Calf 125 are happily living in the small pen we made for Tillie and Ruby. Ruby and Calf 125 are becoming playmates, so that is special and fun.

The sad news is that if she prolapses again, she needs to be put down and she should not have babies anymore. So I think David wants to sell her in the fall.

Bleeding hearts of the world.

Happy Friday!