Yup, We're Still In Love.

Ron called me in the living room last night after he got done doing chores.  "I've got some bad news." he said.
"What...did red have her calf and its dead?" I got all excited because "Red" is a cow in the east pen that I have been watching like a hawk for the past 10 days.  Her udder is huge and I can't wait until she has a calf.  I'm seriously hoping for a red Angus heifer, as much or more than my little girls want the gold Barbie high heels.
"Okay, maybe not that bad," he said.  "Just that the yearlings got in with the west cows.  The chain's off the gate and they are running both pens." 

Great.  I think it's possibly that bad.

Like many couples, we work marginally well together.  Usually it is only strained when we work cattle, that most often times requires a truce or handshake before we even go down to the lots.  So after some manure hauling this morning, Big D decided that it was time.  I did too.  I decided that it was time to tell him that I loved him and I wanted a hug.  "Why?" He said with one eyebrow cocked.

"Because, in 20 minutes we will be yelling and we will both need to think about this moment so we don't to choke each other." 

"Fine," he said, pointing his finger at me, "but your running gate, so make sure you have clean underwear on in case you have to go to the emergency room."  He walked out laughing.  I yelled after him that if I was going to be pummeled by a cow, I figure I'd poop my pants during, so fresh clean undies weren't necessary.

Running gate means you have two ways a cow/yearling could run.  Ron is down the alleyway about 75 yards and when he lets a cow past he yells "Cow" or "Heifer" sometimes you can't hear over hoof beats and theres dirt in your eyes from the ones that went through seconds before.  If he says "Cow!" you swing the gate so you close off the heifer alley and they run in with the other cows. Or the other way around.  But at 75 yards they can get to a good run.  Or if a group goes past him, you have to try to stop them.

The first ten minutes, not so good.  I got stuck in some clay and lost my boot.  I was like a big target with cattle running on either side of me and I couldn't move.  Big D had to get my boot out for me as I stood there with one stocking foot that went into the crap.  'That manure won't hurt that fresh cut on the bottom of my foot at all, I'm sure of it.  As my cut stewed in poop and sweat in a rubber boot for the next few hours, I thought, ' At least my underwear are clean.' 

When we finally got some cattle in the alleyway to sort off, those white deer some people might know as Charlois came running at me then stopped dead and doubled back.  "Could you wear a brighter shirt?" Ron yelled.
"I love you babycakes!" I screamed back.

Then,
Big D:  "why didn't you put that heifer in with the yearlings?" 
Me:  "Because she was dead center in a group of five."
Big D:  Get in front of them.
Me: "No way!  All my underwear are in the wash!" 

All in all it did go well.  No complaints and we even joked around most of the time.  So yup, were still in love.  And super tired and sunburned!
Happy trails,
Suzanne