Mike in Tucson will be less visible on the blogosphere for the next ten days. I'll be working cattle.
"Well, who will you get to help work cattle in the spring?" I put the question to my friends Dick and Olivia in early 1995. Dick, having retired from the Air Force, had decided to ramrod a cow/calf operation on Glen Mar Ranch in Caddo, OK. The ranch has been in Olivia's family for four generations.
"I guess I'll hire someone," was the reply. "Don't hire anyone this year," I answered. "I'll take a vacation and we'll work the cattle together." As a kid, between high school and college, I worked cows on a dairy farm in upstate New York. I like cows, and they get along with me just fine.
My Darlin' and I are leaving in the morning for the ranch. We'll drive out and back. This will be the 14th time Dick and I have worked his herd. The cows know us by now. They know I won't punch a new hole in their ear when changing out the fly tags and number tags. That's good. We're less likely to be kicked.