Since the four-year drought when we had to leave the gates of each mountain pasture in Greasy open to secure water, we haven’t had a decent count on our cows. Drought-killed trees and limbs on fences haven’t helped us manage our numbers either. But we do know how many calves we branded in Greasy.
As we’ve gathered to wean and harvest our crop of calves, all but one calf was accounted for as of last Thursday, a calf that may have died sometime after branding. Nevertheless, Robbin and Terri left early Friday in the Kubota with a bale of hay, salt and mineral to look for tracks, to insure we got all the calves.
Evening wine, and
I still want to celebrate
the last marked calf
on the books, in
the weaning pen, out
of the brush and rock
with cows behind
the Kubota and a bale
of hay, Robbin and Terri
on the cellphone calling
for a gooseneck, for Bob
and I to haul him home.
Two frozen bottles of water,
four beers with lemons, cool
reward in an insulated pouch.
(iPhone selfie: Terri Drewry)
drycrikjournal 