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.