A Second Look

Feeding the main herd across the river is a twice a day chore. While I am on the Gator that is loaded with hay bales, the dogs and I are scanning the area for anything unusual.

It is automatic to check the fence lines that run along the base of the hillside keeping the cows out of the nursery/hayfield. The dogs scouting about, scenting for coyotes that may have been in the pasture overnight, or elk that may be ready to tear out one of the fences as they plow through towards the river. A good count on the cows is always a necessity, one missing critter usually means there is trouble  in the form of an injury or possibly the birth of a new calf. Most of the time we don’t even think about it, but observation is an important tool to keep everything running smoothly.

The other morning, while Mike was just beginning his morning with a cup of coffee and before he made it out to begin the morning chores, he heard a rig slow down before driving past. Then a second rig slowed and he heard a thump before the vehicle drove by the end of the driveway. Without even being able to see in the pre-sunrise morning, he knew there was an issue. Slipping on a pair of boots and trudging down the driveway, a car went by and he heard the thump again. Someone had lost a board off their early morning load and it was smack dab in the middle of the county road.

Mike picked it up and happened to glance further up the road where he saw a bucket and other debris trailed along. Hearing a thump led him to a cleanup task of finding and hauling the garbage back to the house and off the county road.

While feeding the cows the other day, an observation led me in another direction. Between throwing out slabs of hay for the cows to feast, my eyes wandered to the top of the ridge where a single silhouette that announced a possible herd of elk headed my way. To keep them from moving in a destructive path downhill, I began the hazing routine of blowing a whistle, and hollering. I was hoping to not only startle the elk, but to cue the dogs to start noticing the eventual invasion and kick them into gear to do their job.

Since I am not nearly as loud as Mike, my hollering is more like squealing, but the idea is to make noise and that is what I did. The silhouette did not move. I squirreled the Gator around the field, whooped, whistled and screamed some more before my observations led me to the fact that the silhouette was not an elk at all but a couple of stumps near the crest of the hill that had the faint outline of a elk. Perhaps I need to hone my observing skills a little, I’m beginning to slip…

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