This afternoon, I played hooky from the cow camp and went to a ranch auction. A persistent breeze and gently falling but sparse snowflakes turned the outing into a rather chilly proposition. However, the foresight to dig long forgotten longhandles out of the dresser drawer made it bearable. Rather proudly, I totaled up my purchases for the day. They consisted of a roast beef sandwich, a can of Mountain Dew, and a cup of hot chocolate for a neighbor, plus two more cups of hot chocolate later in the day. My pickup box was empty upon arriving home.
Heard a pretty good unsolicited cowdog story. At a recent branding of a ranch down in the hills, the riders gathered a herd of cows and calves out in the middle of a fairly large pasture. The ranch owner ordered his seven (count 'em, seven) cowdogs to hold the herd while the cowboys proceeded to rope, drag and wrestle the calves while other cowboys did the branding and vaccinating. The dogs served as the only corral for the cattle, and the herd was held without a single staple popping.
This is all pretty impressive, but thinking of feeding seven dogs all the time for one afternoon of impressing folks kinda makes the deal come out "depressive".