You Know It's Too Windy When...

• When you're worried about feeding cattle because most of the ration will end up in the neighbor's yard.
• When your dog looks like she just came from the dentist because her jowls are so inflated while looking into the wind.
• When you're worried about having the sheep barn door suck shut on a kids hand and dismembering them.  Seriously, it's a heavy door!
• When the loose tin on the hog shed rattles so bad it sounds like you're under heavy artillery fire.
• When you have to wear safety glasses to go to the mail box.
• When you find your neighbor's credit card information stuck in your sheep's wool as you're doing chores.

The number one reason you know it's too windy...

• When you have one of the kids bring out the pig feed to throw over the fence and most of it flies back on their clothes instead of hitting the ground (poor Ashlyn)!

Happy trails!
Suzanne

There's a Theif Among Us

Not to take away from the Royal wedding across the pond, but we here have solved a mystery that even Scotland Yard would be proud of.

You see, something (or someone) has been stealing our eggs for quite some time. Actually we weren’t sure if they were truly being stolen or if it was just the hens hiding their nests again. Let me tell you, on a hot summer’s day when you find a nest with 30-40 eggs in it, it’s always a crap shoot to see what’s good or bad. That smell is terrible! Of course if you don’t want to play Russian Roulette with your nose, you can always use the water test to see if there’s any floaters (that means their bad).

But anyway, yesterday Ron and I were out and about in the yard while the kids were napping. I had just happened to look at the sheep barn and saw Sparky the donkey looking in the door as if standing guard. Of course this couldn’t be right, and he knows he’ll get in trouble when he’s caught in there, so Ron and I had to investigate.

As we got closer, he whinnied a little and stepped back then started to munch on some grass not to far from the door like nothing was going on. “Where’s the dog?” Ron asked barely whispering.

“I bet were going to find out” I said equally quiet from behind. We snuck into the barn, barely breathing as we crept to the chicken coop. There that little turkey was, with her head in a nesting box; munching, blissfully unaware that she’d been caught.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE!” Ron yelled. Let me tell you, if you want to see a 140 pound Newfoundland have the crap scared out of her, this would have been your chance. “GET OUT OF HERE NOW!” He yelled but was laughing, she looked like a scared bull in a china cabinet trying to clamor her way out. When she went through the door, she slammed into (what I now believe was her accomplice) Sparky running all the way to her doghouse.

I think I know the reason why he was in on the shenanigans. He involuntarily gave up his part of the barn to Sweetie, our heifer calf. He’s been pacing back in forth in front of her fence smelling the delicious calf starter that has a heavy molasses scent to it. I knew he’d be jealous. =)

So, all is well back at the ranch. Ron came in last night with 4 eggs. As I was telling my mom the daily dose of funny, she asked wryly, “didn’t her shiny coat tip you off?”

Happy trails
Suzanne

Bad To The Bone Bovine

To all you ranchers who wonder (with a chuckle), where did that horrible #161 red angus and that bear of a black angus (she didn't even have a tag, although you probably couldn't catch her to tag her) go after they left my place?

Well, here they are; at the Fairchilds. 

To those of you who don't know so much about cattle, that's ok. You'll probably learn alot from this blog.  =)  We custom feed cattle, which means we're like bovine babysitters for a customer who buys cattle but either doesn't want the hassle or doesn't have the room for them.  We take care of and feed them for a certain amount of time until they're the right market weight and the owner, will sell them for slaughter.   We like to make their final stop a good one, mean or not, we take great care of people's cattle and we take great pride in what we do.

With that said, we can tell who's culled out of a herd for their "anger management" issues.  First I'd like you to meet "Cowzilla" a large framed black baldy.  Usually, I take much better pictures, but I didn't dare step into the pen with her. I've already had her coming at me in a hard run while I shouted and tried in vain to chain the steel gate between us.  Note her docile appearance for the camera, that's a lie friends.  Right before I took this, she was already pawing the ground and swinging her head around.  We had our church picnic at our place last night and the evening finished with a hay ride through the farm.  Let me tell you, she came running up to the front to see the comotion and was cocking her ears and swinging her head.  Oblivious to what she was doing, the town folk on the wagon enjoyed the ride, but Ron and I were thankful we didn't have to swing any gates or anything, she was primed to get someone.  The good thing was, we did have a priest on the wagon to read us our last rights. 

Next, I'd like you to meet "Fish Hook", while trying to get her up the alleyway she turned on Ron twice and tried to pin him between the continous fencing and a gate he was trying to shut on her. Snortin' and shovin' all the way.  When we finally did get her in the headgate, she threw a fit a two year old kid would even be ashamed of.  As the vet poured her with a delicing solution, I got up just close enough to see what I thought were notches on the straight horn and some cowboy's names that had tried to wrangle her in the past.  I'm thinking she's got quite the ability to hook you or stab you.  All I know is I don't want to be on the sharp point of either one of them!  One more thing, you'll notice what's on her left, it appears she hangs out with  her own kind.  Apparently in the world of cows even the other females think she's a rear end. 
Happy Trails!
Suzanne