Picking up Bulls, and Gathering up Strays.....

Sounds like an old western song doesn't it? I could add to it, " just a plodding along, yipe-ty-ya-yeah." But it isn't a song, it has been what I have been doing this week. Poor DH, came and asked me the other day if I would mind helping him. He looked so sad and downcast that I said "of course I will". Then I found out that it was going to have me, get horseback. Now I love to ride, but due to laziness on my part mostly, I don't do it very often anymore, a shame really. It took me awhile to find my spurs, they were buried in the back of my closet. Of course I had to find my hat, hanging behind the dozens on the hat rack. I needed a jacket, cause it was a nice chilly morning. And I didn't want to forget my Burt's Bees chap stick, with just a hint of color because you know, when you are chasing bulls and gathering strays you just need to feel good about yourself. And I also thought that if I was bucked off and laying in the dirt I would look presentable when the EMT's arrived.

By the time I arrived at the barn, DH had my horse saddled and in the trailer. What a man. He didn't even scold me. They are running such a short crew here on the ole ranchero that I think he was just glad to have help. Any help. Thus me and Youngest.

Off we go zooming to the west. Youngest and Ginger riding shotgun. Youngest decided that he was going to make the supreme sacrifice and drive the pickup so we wouldn't have to worry about going back and getting it. Youngest likes to get out of work. He really wasn't all that concerned about us. And he likes to drive, I see through these things. I have been a mother a long time.

We located our bulls, unloaded our horses and we were off. Running madly toward them, leaping sage brush, jumping deep ravines, hollering, whooping and generally being rowdy. OK....the truth was this...That was only one of us. It was not me. I made it very clear from the get go that there was going to be only one of us acting in that manner and it would not be me. I mean really. So Dunny and I brought up the rear. I spend a lot of time in the rear, or "drag". I think that is an ugly term and makes me feel bad about myself, but I was wearing my new lip stick. Even though it was slowly attracting dusty dirty grittiness to my lips I ignored it and trotted on. DH had them pointed in the right direction, after a few minutes of leaping, jumping and hollering. Why do bulls act so dumb? They just had to try and be silly when they know all along that the cowboy always wins.

In the next few minutes I made an annoying discovery. The wind had started to blow and I was having a heck of a time keeping my hat on. I was worrying and fiddling with it and not paying attention, and DH calmly told me to just cram it down and come on. In other words..."get with the program, I don't have time for you to fiddle with your hat."

Well OK. But I told him if it blew off he would have to be the one to get off and get it, unless I could find a hill to stand on. Dunny is kinda tall for me. It is an ugly sight to see me waller up on him. I usually get tickled as DH thinks it is his duty to give me a push in the hindquarters, and then it is really hard to board when I am laughing and he is pushing.

We now have them lined out and headed to the corrals up near the house.



I spend lots of time bringing up the rear...



As usual I was glad that DH encouraged me to tag along. I enjoyed being out of the house and spending time with him. It was a perfect fall morning, cool for once. It is amazing how just getting out and getting on the back of a horse makes all the ugly of the world pass away for awhile. I need to do it more often for sure.

God Bless and Happy Trails
RanchWife