Rites of Spring

It was, all in all, an almost perfect day.

Two Fridays ago the Good Rancher moved his heifers to their calving field, aka the horse pasture, and the cows to the Hunt field.

Everything went smoothly.

Everything except, of course, for the antics of ringleader Nod.

  Meet Nod.

Does she look like she

would be any trouble at all?!

The weather forecast was predicting rain and snow in a couple of days, so the Good Rancher was extremely thankful everybody could be settled with grass, water, and shelter as they prepared to have their babies.

As the guys did a quick check before lunch, they discovered these two wonderful mothers, who made it look so easy ...

The Mohn girls led the way,

right before the move - 

two beautiful calves, no problem! 

After lunch the men saddled their horses and they were off. They kept the two mothers and tiny babies back to cause them less stress and fatigue, then they moved the rest of the heifer herd up the fields and across the driveway to the horse pasture gate.

(Included in this herd are bottle calf alumnae Amy and Hanna, Diamond K, Angel, Venus and Serena, Redder, Marta and Gretyl, plus the seven Mohn cows the GR was fortunate enough to purchase at their sale. All these girls might be on their fourth or fifth calf, but they'll always be heifers to me!)

I gathered the five dogs, acknowledging two things: the piercing absence of ScoutyLove; and that my little Earl Grey with his sightless eyes was not so out of place with the other dogs when they were together out here. He couldn't jump on and off the side-by-side to chase cows; but he could feel the air swirling around him and he could hear the cattle thunder by and smell the first hints of spring. And he always loves riding in the side-by-side!

First the heifer group was moved. All seemed to go swimmingly - but I couldn't see Nod anywhere. Nod is Mabel the Holstein's daughter. The freemartin triplet identifies as a heifer and so the GR goodnaturedly lets her stay with the heifers each year. Her brothers, Wynken and Blynken, are in the bull program ...

A shout from Kurt: there was an unusually big cow leading a pack of heifers back to the field they had been in through the winter. The GR rolled his eyes and pointed his horse back in the direction from which they had just come.

"Tell me again why we keep her?" the GR sighed. "Remember Scout's last cattle round-up? Nod led her group over to near Lee Hunt's place and Scouty gathered them all up and brought them home."

I was shocked, shocked. "All the heifers know she's in the Bible!" I said. " 'Lead us, Nod, into temptation!' Of course she has to stay!"

The rebel heifers now safely in the horse pasture, the men turned their attention to the batch of cows they would guide into the Hunt field.

When I first moved to the GR's ranch and I heard talk of "the Hunt field," this is literally what I pictured:

The reality was that the GR and his Deb had purchased this piece of land from their previous employers the Hunts. They named it The Hunt Field, of course. And each Spring the matrons of the herd head as a matter of course to their favourite grove of trees, their choice watering holes, in this incredible pasture area.

As the men rounded up and sorted the cattle, I had a chance to look around to try and discover any signs that Spring was indeed approaching.

There were at least a couple:

The cows - most of whom had been born either in the horse pasture or the Hunt field - made their unhesitating way back home.

"Straight up the hill, turn left at 

the gate. You can't miss it. Don't 

mind the dogs - they're harmless."

Right before evening chores the GR took me on a tour of the Hunt field to make sure everyone was comfortable. 

It was more beautiful than I had anticipated.

The most amazing part of all was to see these dugouts - full of clean, cool water!

Every cow looked settled and content. The GR turned the side-by-side toward home.

One last dash through the horse pasture and the storm field to check on the hefs. The first mother to calve here this season belonged to the Mohn group of cows. She had not quite finished licking off her calf, but he was already on his feet looking for food.

The next morning the wind was vindictive and the GR was so thankful we had moved the mothers to their birthing fields.

The dogs pouted in the porch, unwilling to be outside but ticked right off that the GR took only Earl Grey with him this morning.

I was ticked off that I had to go check on the heifers in this bluster.

Still, once I was out there I spotted almost immediately the cow-calf pair from the evening before.

 As I drove through the open gateway between the horse pasture and the storm field, that baby bull pushed his way through the fence to see what the weird sound was.

I turned off the side-by-side's engine. The calf - not even 24 hours old - did a little four-step of joy, then he turned around and bounded back to his mummy.

The wind died down for a couple of minutes and I could hear that beautiful song of a mother lowing lovingly to her calf. And I was reminded that it is indeed the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Writing in the Dark of the Year: "I Stand on All Fours, My Fur ..."

 On this fourth week, the writing prompt that hit me between the eyes was this:

"I stand on all fours, my fur ..."

I couldn't actually read this piece - or any piece, for that matter - aloud this week. But here's what I wrote:

I stand on all fours, my fur rising ever so slightly from my suddenly unfamiliar body. (Is it my body that is unfamiliar, or is it everything else?)

Last Tuesday night I went to bed, stretched out as usual on the blanket on the floor behind my Friend's bed. She turned out the light, then she said, like she says every night, "Sleep time, SLEEP time, my little Earl Grey. Sleep time, my Faithful Friend. See you in the MORning!" 

But the morning never came. The dark night got blacker and blacker. The Good Rancher got up and made his breakfast and left. My Friend got up and called to me.

I didn't know where she was. 

I didn't know where I was.

I bumped into a hard edge and did not know how to get around it so I stopped. I needed water, I needed to go outside, I needed to have my Friend say, "Good MORning, my little Earl Grey!"

She came back to find me. I almost didn't hear her footsteps. I was so scared that my entire body was shaking. I could hardly breathe.

"Come on, my dog! What's going on?" I looked at where I thought her voice was coming from. She cried my name like she never had before - "GRAAAAAAYYY!" 

She pushed me with her legs and put her hand on my head. She got me to where I could feel cool air on my face. So many smells. Birds chirping. Cats meowing. Musket yapping from the porch. I was so confused that I just froze.

I put out my foot, but there was nothing there. Suddenly I felt her next to me. Her hands on my shoulders. "Step!" she screamed, "Step! Step! Step! Step!"

I didn't know what to do. She had never raised her voice at me before. Except that time when she saw me with a baby barn kitten in my mouth. Was she angry with me, like then?

I heard tapping right below me. "Step," she whispered. I could feel her breath on my face. Salt water dripping onto my nose. I leaned toward her and my foot dropped down to reach a spot just below me. "Step," she said again and that same tapping below me. I followed her breath.

And then I felt the cold bristles of grass beneath me. "Go, on, Earl Grey," she said. I inhaled the scent of previous outside visits, both mine and the other dogs'. Some stronger than others.  I took a few steps into this blackness. I had to pee, but I was too scared to lift my leg. 

She called to me and I heard her truck running. Maybe we were going for a ride? But I could not find her or the truck. Suddenly she was in front of meIbumpedintoherlegs. The Good Rancher was there and he picked me up and put me in the truck. She was already sitting right next to me.

The movement, the noise, the smells. I could hear big trucks coming toward me and I pressed myself low on the seat because I couldn't see them and I was scared they were going to run over me.

We stopped at the place where the people give me treats, and the girl came out to help my Friend get me out of the truck. They put a noose around my neck and started to pull me, but I did not know where I was going so I sat down.

And I heard my Friend's voice. "My Faithful Friend," she said. "Come with me, Earl Grey."

They got me into a small room. I tried to walk around but I kept bumpingbumping into a huge box in the middle of the room. I put my head on my Friend's lap and everything was quiet. 

But not for long. Two other people came into the room and they made my Friend put a muzzle on me. Then they poked me in my foot, and they put something cold near my heart, and I felt whooshing air near my eyes. I started to pant.

My Friend and that girl got me back into the truck. The truck started and then there was a howling sound, like the coyotes on the hills at home every night. I tried to reach for her hand, which was always there when I put my head on the console, but I fell off the seat.

The howling stopped. So did the truck. The door next to me opened. She helped me get back up onto the seat.

We got home. I got onto the floor of the truck but when she tried to get me down I couldn't move. I could only shake and pant. 

She went away and came back and there was somewhere hard to put my foot. It was covered with something soft that smelled like her jacket. "Step," she said quietly. "Step." 

And I was on the blessed ground again.

This last week has been long. Cold weather. Accidents in the living room. I can't find my food until I am standing in the bowl. I spill the water. My head hurts all the time. I sleep a lot. The dogs avoid me, but those kittens stay close to me now. 

Nothing is the same. 

Except for one thing.

A long time ago she went away for a night, and when she came back the next afternoon, she smelled of blood and bandages and medicine and sadness. We could not jump up on her, and she did not bend down to give us our milk time, milk time. Something was wrong. 

She lay on the couch and I lay on the floor next to her. When she got up she went to the small room with the loud rushing of water. I felt I needed to go look after her. So I waited for her outside the door. 

And from that day on, whenever she goes to the small room with the loud rushing of water I always lie down, blocking the door, waiting for her, protecting her from the unseen enemy. Now everything is unseen, everything is the enemy.

Still. I still know when she is in that place, and I have still been able to find the door. And I would still protect her with my whole pitiful being.

She opens the door. I stand on all fours, my fur turning into shield and breastplate and helmet, and my useless eyes glowing jade green. I stand on guard for her.

And I hear her say the words she always says as she bends to stroke my back and head:

"Grey? Are you waiting for me, Grey? Oh Grey, you ALWAYS wait for me. THANK you for waiting for me, Earl Grey. Thank you for being my Faithful Friend. Do you love me, Grey? I think you LOVE me!! From the FIRST time you saw me, you loved me, and you wanted to BE my friend. And now, you are my FAITHful Friend, Earl Grey, and now, you are MY dog."

Everything has changed, but nothing has changed. I would give my life for her. 

I hope she can see that.