Laughing at Both Dogs - D2D.7.23.14

This was Tinker Bell's view as she looked toward the house and safety.  I tried to catch more of the cattle on the road and in the way, but couldn't get my phone out fast enough.

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Beau, the big Boxer, and Tinker Bell the Chihuahua, are exactly the same color and are great buddies.  Beau goes with me most everywhere, often riding in the back seat of the pickup when I have to run errands.  Of course, in this hot weather he and Tink stay home in the outside kennel because it's just flat too warm to take him along.  But when I go to the pasture, I take them both.

One recent morning I was down in the pasture carefully tending to the irrigation, especially important during this drought.  I noticed both dogs on the ridge below the ditch, looking around, exploring, and in general, just being dogs.  Recently Tinker was frightened by the cows checking her out, and coming toward her, heads down, sniffing.  Since she was with me in the field, I kept an eye on her for she was a long way from the house.   

Finished with irrigating, I headed for the barn to feed hay.  The cattle began moving toward the gate to the corrals.  Since they were all above the ditch, they had to cross the bridge on the driveway to get to the corral.  The result was a line of big cows walking down my driveway, heading straight toward the dogs, especially one small dog.

When Tinker discovered this development she decided it was high time to abandon any further exploration and make tracks for the safety of the house.  Of course, if she'd stayed with Beau below the ditch, the cattle would have lumbered over the bridge, turned to the east and would soon have been in the corral.  She could have then had the whole road to herself to go to the house.

Not realizing this, Tinker raced toward the bridge.  Like a running back dodging the entire backfield, she zigged and  zagged, dodged through the moving forest of bovine legs coming down the road. 

With hay foremost on their mind, the cattle ignored the speeding brown flash.  Several times Tinker stopped for a instant, changed directions to go around four more moving hooves and legs.  Watching her broken field running, I had to giggle.

When she finally escaped the sea of legs, she suddenly stopped and looked back at them in amazement.  It seemed as if she said to herself, "Wow.  That was close.  I was almost crushed." 

Of course, the cattle weren't in the least bit interested in her as they headed for their morning ration of hay.

Beau gave me a great laugh the other day and I'm pretty sure I insulted him.  When Sharon and I eat meat with bones, he and Tinker each get one to chew.  I had already shared one bone with both dogs earlier, and only had one more good-sized bone so I called Beau.  As he turned the corner into the kitchen, he ducked his head and dropped his first bone on the floor.

As it rattled to a stop, I noticed it was much cleaner than it had been a few moments earlier.  Anxious to get the proffered new bone, he ignored the dropped bone but only until he turned back toward the couch.

Suddenly he had a dilemma.  Two bones.  One mouth. 

His mouth went from one bone to the other, back and forth, making a sort of snuffling sound as he chased the bones across the vinyl flooring.  I laughed at his frustration and unsuccessful efforts. 

At the edge of the carpet he finally got them close enough to grasp both in his teeth and triumphantly carried them to the couch.

Once on the couch he stared back at me with a disgusted expression, the ends of both bones protruding from his mouth.  When he turned toward me, his expression accented by the stubby ends of the bones made me bend double in gales of laughter. 

Good taste prevents me from writing what his expression seemed to be saying.  I'm quite certain it wasn't polite.

Of Cattle Guards and Stubborn Calves

Faithful readers of this column know that my Charolais bull, known far and wide as Ghost, has a stubborn streak.  He is so persistent he will actually get himself hung up in a barbed wire fence if he decides he wants that special bite of grass on the other side.  Over the past few years I've had to extricate him from precarious positions several times. 

When he gets himself tangled in a fence, he waits patiently for me to find and release him.  As I approach, usually laughing and talking to him, the old bull turns and looks impatiently over his shouder.  The expression on his face can only be described as, "It's about time you got here.  Hurry up and get me out of here."

One morning a few days ago I discovered his stubbornness and persistence may well be a genetic trait.  It appears Ghost has passed this on to at least one of his calves, also a little bull.

A cattle guard is designed to allow vehicles to pass through a fenceline, without having to open a gate.  The time-honored method of construction is to dig a pit, then cover the hole with pipe or railroad iron to support the vehicle.  When cattle see this, the darkness, or at least the space beneath the grate does not appear secure enough to walk on so they stay in the pasture and not in the yard.  At least that's the design concept.

This idea has been used for a long time, and works so well that in some areas I've even seen a cattle guard painted on the roadway.  A wide black strip across the road is painted on the asphalt, then white "rails" are painted accross the black, giving the appearance of a pit below the surface.  And sure enough, the fake cattle guard works very well.  Smart old cows, and experienced bulls, will eventually figure out the painted surface is not a dangerous cavity beneath skinny rails.  That animal may need to be moved to another field before the whole herd follows the knowledgeable ones across the non-existent rails.

Incidentally, one can always spot an amateur "cattle guard driver."  They slow down and bump-bump-bump much too carefully over the rails.  Experienced country folk know the proper way is to maintain at least "driveway speed" and just skim across the tops of the bars.  If the tires have time to drop, the car bumps along, shaking your teeth loose.  Simply drive quickly enough to let the tires go smoothly from rail to rail.

But I digress.  On a recent morning I went outside to open the gate for Shiplay and discovered a large bull calf, obviously one of Ghost's calves, standing in the cattle guard reaching carefully between the rails to nibble on the dry leaves blown into the pit.  When I stepped toward him, he quickly and effortlessly stepped out the hole, and scampered away toward the other calves.

This bull calf, obviously out of Ghost, appears to have inherited some of his daddy's stubbornness and persistence.  He's standing on the bottom of the pit, legs carefully in between the rails, nibbling on leaves down inside.

As the father of three grown sons, I often find there are great similarities between raising cattle and boys.  When the calves think they've gotten away with something, it's not unusual to see them run away, kicking up their heels in glee.  As I walked toward the young bull calf, and the calves gathered around to watch him, he hopped out of the cattle guard easily and they all dashed down the hill, kicking and bucking.  Sure sounds like a group of little boys to me.

Tinker and The Big Mean Cows - D2D 7.9.14

These two characters are great buddies, and often snuggle up this way on our couch.

            Two dogs reside on our hilltop with us.  One is Beau, a six-year-old Boxer, and the other is Tinker Bell, a four-year-old Chihuahua.  Both dogs sleep in the house, and usually join us on our king-size bed at night.  Their interactions with each other, with us, and with the cattle, squirrels, birds, rabbits, bobcat, and coyote can be entertaining.  Sometimes that interaction can even be dangerous.

During the day and the evenings I put both dogs outside on a regular basis.  Beau has no problem taking care of his business outside, but Tinker is a whole different story.  I swear she holds it when I take her outside so she can go inside on the rug, either in my office.  Sometimes she leaves me a surprise in my bathroom which make for an interesting late night trips in the dark to the toilet.

In the summer, I often have irrigation of my green pastures to tend to first thing in the morning.  When I go outside, I often take both dogs with me.  Beau usually goes with me into the pasture, and quite often Tinker will go down the driveway as far as the ditch, which is about half way down the hill.

As I work with the irrigation I always keep an eye on Tinker Bell, and watching for the presence of wandering coyotes. A few months ago I was working inside the barn.  My attention was drawn to a disturbance on the road.  One of the dogs barked and yelped frantically. 

I rushed out the front door of the barn, and thought I saw three dogs on the road.  Hey, wait a minute I don't have three dogs, only two.  Included in the animals on the roadway was a hungry coyote.

I began shouting as loud as I could.  My cries stirred Beau into action.  Barking, he tore after the coyote.  Scared for her life, the chihuahua yipped continuously as she raced up the road toward the safety of the house as fast as her short legs would carry her.

Because of Beau’s barking the coyote abandoned the chase and disappeared over the hill.  With the combination of an upset Boxer chasing him, a very noisy human at the barn, and a rapidly disappearing and yelping dog racing up the road, it was time to look for a quieter breakfast.  The coyote must have decided a rabbit wouldn't have reinforcements and might be a better idea.

When I caught up with the little dog at the house, I learned how close she came to being the coyote’s morning repast.  On the top of her shoulders was a half-inch slice from a slashing coyote canine tooth.  One tooth caught her hide, the other must have missed.  A quick trip to the vet, a thorough cleaning of the wound, three stitches and an overnight stay and she was good to go.

After that experience, when Tink goes with Beau and me down into the pasture, I always watch for a predator passing through the area.  Even after Tinker Bell’s narrow escape, the marauding coyote is not her greatest risk. 

My cows are used to seeing Beau pass among them, but Tink is tiny and arouses their curiosity.  Curious cows will investigate and sniff at the little creature.

This morning I was irrigating below the bridge when I heard the Chihuahua barking ferociously.  I looked up quickly, fearing something dangerous threatened her. 

Instead of a hungry coyote, two curious cows slowly walked toward her, heads down, sniffing and trying to see this little bitty critter.  To Tinker these two large animals posed a tremendous threat.  At ten pounds she was dwarfed by a creature at least eighty times her weight.
She raced up the driveway toward the safety of the house, yelping over her shoulder at those big mean cows.  Once safely at the yard, she paused in her flight and gave two last indignant barks.  Her pointed comment made, she haughtily ducked under the fence.  The cows returned to grazing, unimpressed.

The Coveted and Purloined Grain - D2D.7.2.14

The morning after the last column appeared, it became time for Sharon to leave for work.  Walking toward the car we noted Spirit standing at the gate as she does when she wants her grain.  Sharon asked if the other cattle were far enough away to let her eat her breakfast.

"Oh," I assured her, "she'll eat so fast they'll never get here in time."  Spirit eats very quickly, and usually has the rubber feeding pan empty in a very short time.  So, I gave her a big scoop. 

I didn't take into account the speed of Ghost, the Charolais bull.  This big guy was not far from the gate leading into the back field, and stood at least one hundred yards away.  He was even looking the other direction.  I thought by the time he walked all the way to the house, Spirit would have time to eat.

When Sharon leaves for work I always carry her lunch out to the car and put it in the rolling box she takes into work, then place her travel coffee mug in the cup holder between the seats.  As she goes down the drive I wave goodbye before returning to the house.

As Sharon disappeared over the top cattleguard, I started into the house, only to find Spirit standing on the side of the kennel well away from her feeding pan.  Ghost had arrived in a big hurry.  Spirit is much too shy and not aggressive enough to try to protect her grain.  Of course, Ghost is used to getting his way anywhere he goes. 

It became obvious that Ghost had walked quickly across the pasture, shoved Spirit out of the way, and was busily munching down on the grain.  Well, so much for the idea Spirit would get to eat unimpeded.

My first thought was to open the gate, shoo Ghost away, then let Spirit come back and finish her breakfast.  Ghost is not overly aggressive, but at 1,200 pounds he doesn't let much stop him. 

As I stepped toward him, he backed away a few steps, but definitely let me know he wasn't happy about it by bobbing his head in what I recognized as a threatening manner.  I've been around cattle enough to know he was just as liable to step forward and try to buffalo me, as I was doing to him.  I watched him carefully and shouted at him.  This seemed to hold him at bay, at least for the moment.

Spirit saw her opportunity, came back around the tree and hustled up to the pan.  I glanced over my shoulder to see how she was going, only to find the pan was actually empty.  She had eaten a little at first, but Ghost had finished it off.  Reluctantly I stepped back through the gate and let him return to lick the pan clean.

Standing at the gate watching Ghost lick the bottom of the pan, I spied the red-eyed cow, the one Sharon had talked to.  She was hustling up the hill toward Ghost.  She intended to get in on the treat. 

The following pictures tell the whole story.  She wanted just a taste, but Ghost would have none of it even though the pan was empty.  After all, he is the herd sire.

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Here are the sequential pictures of Ghost and the Red-Eyed Cow.

 The Red-Eyed cow hurries up to the feeding area, but Ghost butts her away.

So she went around to the other side to see if that worked any better. 

Even though there is no grain in the pan, Ghost is not having any part of sharing with her.

  She butts back a little and gets her nose into the pan, only to find it empty.