I Ain't No Cow Girl!

Bull or Cow???

The twins, not yet aware of the horrors that await them.

I have been a farmer's daughter and now I am a farmer's wife. When I was a child, calves were born, sold or added to the herd...no shots, no tags, no tatoos, no registration. When my hubby decided to add cattle to his farm adventure, I informed him they were his babies not mine. He would ask a cow question and I would answer, don't know, not my babies.

I am, however, lucky to be the paperworker. I get to figure what number goes on tags, what number on tatoos, what number on paper after I am told what calf belongs to who. I have all the tags bagged with their numbers sacked up neatly for the the cowboys to take with them.

Did I get to stay in? NO!!!

First, let me say, we do have a head gate and have had one for a year. It is still laying in the grass. If these were my babies, I would have had a catcher pen with a chute so you could run the calves through one at a time, do what you do and let them go. But these are not my babies!!! So we round all the cattle into a acre area with a triangle pen for working, no chute, no head gate, these are babies, no problem. HA!!!!

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Piece of cake,We pick out the four calves and start the pursuit. Now none of us are ropers, none of us know really what we are doing. The poor calves were smart to run and run and run. Two lariats, two non ropers and two herders, four people, this should be done quickly, smoothly.

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I am in my muck boots and no bra and I am running, this is not a safe way to run! Cut this way, cut that way, bring 'em this way...I was ready to tattoo the hubby. I came out here to hand the correct numbers and tags to the Cowboys and take pictures, not gallop after cows with my chest swinging!

One calf is roped, after thirty-seven, at least, attempts.

Throw him down, Andrew!

Could have lost some teeth here!

Now hold her down!

They finally gave up. Four calves done and we are done in!

Let me repeat...I AIN'T NO COW GIRL!