The Day After Thanksgiving

Because it’s tradition and because, well, there were calves to work, we had a big working Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving.

 

The good news was, we didn’t start till the late, late hour of 9:00 am…which is sort of like starting at noon on other days of the year.

 

We drove out to the McCormick pasture and unloaded the horses…

 

And everyone climbed on.

 

(Some more easily than others.)

 

(I think it was that extra piece of pie he had right before bed.)

(He takes after his mother.)

 

There were a lot of pairs to gather, so everyone rode out to distant places and began pushing the cattle where they needed to go.

 

Oh, what a beautiful day!

 

Soon, the cattle started coming.

 

Yaaawn. Bessie could have used another hour of sleep.

 

Yaaawn. So could Bessie’s baby, Bessie Lou!

 

Yaaawn. So could Mabel.

 

Yaaawn. So could Helen.

 

Yaaaawwwwwwn. So could these three!

 

But this one…

 

Well, he was a-okay. Alive, awake, alert, and enthusiastic!

He’s been that way since he was born.

 

So once they had all the cattle together, they drove them to the corner of the pasture so Marlboro Man and his brother Tim could sort them.

 

On another note…this was a mighty nice way to spend Black Friday. No lines, no haggling, and I didn’t have to shower.

 

Once all the cattle were in the corner, the sorting began. Marlboro Man slowly rode into the herd…

 

Looking for the pregnant cows.

 

And when he found one…

 

He’d use his horse to carefully isolate her…

 

And sort her off away from the herd. From here, she and her fellow pregnant bovine sisters will be kept in a separate pasture from the pairs. Just another way of managing the cattle—it makes sense to keep like animals together so you can keep better track.

 

After Marlboro Man would sort one off, our daughter would finish the job by pushing her out so she’d go on about her business and not rejoin the herd.

 

This sorting process takes awhile. Both Marlboro Man and Tim sort until all the pregnant ones are sorted off, while the rest of the crew creates a physical barrier to keep the herd from scattering, which would make them have to start all over again!

 

You have to keep your eye on the cattle the whole time and react as soon as you see one (or two…or more) start to push the boundaries.

 

It doesn’t happen very often, but I’ve seen this process go nice and smooth…and then all of a sudden something causes the cattle to wig out and take off running.

And that is a very, very, very dark time.

 

So after the last of the pregnant cows were sorted off…

 

They took the pairs through the gate into the other pasture, leaving the pregnant ones behind.

 

Then they drove the pairs all the way to the pens along the highway, where the calves would be worked.

 

They took them as far as the fence, then drove them to the pens up the fenceline. The reason for this is obvious: It’s a lot easier to keep the cattle together if there’s a whole line of fence on one side of them.

 

Ahhh, I wish you could hear this sound.

 

The rustling of the crispy grass, the mooing of the cattle, the staccato “Hey! Hey! Hey!” from the cowboys and kids in an effort to keep the cattle moving along.

It’s a symphony.

 

Finally, they got the cattle into a trap that would lead to the working pens.

 

But the calves were piddling around, so the kids had to hop off their horses and herd them along on foot.

Funny that a calf will respond more to a kid closer to its size than to a huge horse.

 

Finally, at long last, the cattle were all in the pens.

 

So everyone tied up their horses…

 

And then it was time to get to work! Each calf had to be worked before they were turned back out into the pasture with their mamas…

 

And the kids were responsible for pushing the calves up the alley and into the chute.

 

I can’t tell you how many photos I have of the kids doing this very thing throughout the years.

 

There’s this one from a couple of years ago.

 

And this one. Last year sometime.

 

There’s this one from 2007. Marlboro Man…where’s your goatee?!?

 

And this one. My girl! She was so young.

 

And this one. A year or two ago? I’m not sure.

 

And…there’s this one. Oh, dear. The dimples.

Excuse me. I have to go cry now.