Thanks! Hi all!
We are on an Island in Puget Sound, WA state.
we mostly run Dairy sheep crossbreds. We also have a youth project that is pretty fun.
And I shear professionally.
And Dairy does with boer on top, although I may be getting out of them.
That is not one of my best poems.....but anywho...I love to write them.
Here is a little story about a race! And it has cattle in it too!
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A Race near Eagle River, Arkansas
(Dedicated to Granny and Grandpa and the Keck's who had the best practical jokes and races in the World. Some of the hornets had help making their way into one of my uncle's sandwiches.)
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The calves ran pell mell through the forest, jumping creeks and ditches. Twigs slapped the girls face as she galloped bareback on the pony, Patch. Coal black Sug dog ran in back nipping the slow goers. The girl's brother picked another trail and both brother and sister were intent on getting back to the barn first.
Brother was older and his bare feet pounded the sides of his Ozark mountain mule. His yellow dog was the older of the two and savvy to the land and minds of young calves. His four roan calves thought the race was a great idea. The boy had a swift consideration of the whupping he'd get if he was caught running the calves through the woods.
The girls trail suddenly got steeper and her three calves flew over the edge of a short cliff like deer and the girl grabbed a hank of mane as the pony hurled itself after.
Sug dog went off to head a calf that spun off to the right and the race continued down the hill. Dust flying, thudding hooves and the panting breath of the herd of young critters.
The boy looked over his west shoulder and could hear the rush of his sister's passage.
He decided to short cut it across the pasture of a neighbor who had a fence down and his calves were turned right by the old dog swinging up the flank. The neighbor had spied the bunch and ran out of his barn cursing the spirits of the young. The boy on his galloping mule shook with laughter but then sobered a bit at the thought of his old pop. But right now, which is where all children live, it was worth it.
The girl made it down the hill and headed for her nearest short cut through another stretch of forest. Her spotted pony was small, with eyes in his feet and she made good time galloping, dodging the wicked growth that crowded her close to the heels of the calves that had tails really stretched out now.
Both brother and sister had chosen different paths but with the same haven waiting.
The boy took the long stretch but able to go full out. His path full of open land.
The girl, braids flying, took the forest route and it was shorter but there was the added difficultly of swinging branches and rocky creeks.
The boy's mule and calves galloped by a group of hound dogs tied to a truck. It was late afternoon and these hounds were going after coon in the twilight. The hounds stared, eyes starting at the sight racing by them and they struggled and chewed their way loose and took off after the boy, long ears flapping wildly. This caused the boy's calves to nearly double their pace. They were flying now.
The surprised hunters came out of the woods to see their dogs running flat out behind a galloping mule and a bunch of rough calves. They swung, cursing, into their old truck, shotguns sticking out the windows, and took off after them.
Meanwhile the girl had emerged triumphant from the forest and suddenly ripped through two laundry lines strung up in someone's back yard, drying sheets. This caused her pony to promptly buck her off where she landed with a thud on the hard red dirt. Her dog ran to the head of the calves to try and stop them and wait for her. The calves snorting, tails kinked and wild were very reluctant and Sug dog had a tough time.
The girl struggled to her feet. The woman of the house ran out breathless and worried for she had seen the girl's tumble from her kitchen window.
"Land alive girl! What are you doing!?"
"I am racing my brother; he said girls are stupid and slower than boys." Said the girl wiping dust and tears from her face and standing slowly up.
The woman's dark eyes squinted tight and all the arguments between men and women rose up in her very blood. She hoisted the girl onto the Chickasaw pony, who had sweetly waited, and slapped his slick rump.
"You go and run him down, girl."
So the girl on the pony pounded back out to her Sug dog and the calves and they were off again.
Now brother and sister met on the road as she turned off from the woman's driveway. She galloped just ahead of her brother's little herd. The boy on his mule with his calves ran as if the very jaws of hell opened behind them for they were being chased by hounds and the old ford truck whose wheels wobbled as if they would fall off at any minute.
The girl whipped a glance behind her and knew if she could just get an ounce more speed she'd win.
Each homestead they passed someone would emerge, 'What were these crazy Keck's up to now?'
One black calf bumbled into the brush in the side ditch and by his actions stirred up a nest of bald faced hornets who angry by nature gave him a couple of stings that sent him crazy. The other calves hearing the buzzing added a couple of notches to their speed and the girl felt tears sting her eyes as the pony pumped it up too and the wind blurred her vision.
But oh it was glorious, hooves pounding and the calves running, the black dog behind and the girl in front of her brother who had a pack of hounds and truck behind him.
The girl turned up the long dirt road to her own house and barn and passed two bearded bemused uncles who slapped their legs and urged her on.
She stopped as the calves ran through their own gate and dismounted her pony as her brother galloped up. His sweat and dust streaked face smiling and happy.
The hounds stopped bewildered by their feet and the truck pulled up and the hunters got out.
Old Pop came out of the house wiping his hands on a towel and looked at the sight of his breathless calves, panting hounds and laughing coon hunters. The smiling kids suddenly hung their heads and grew pretty sober.
"What the hell have you been doing?" Asked Old Pop.
"Don't swear, Andy, its ok. Calves are fine, nothing is wind broke." Offered the two Uncles.
"Were you two racing them calves?" Asked Old Pop
"Yep a race…" Answered the sister softly.
"A race… why?" Asked Old Pop.
The brother glanced at his little sister and grinned through his dirt and sweat and told Old Pop, "Because Girls are faster and smarter than boys." And then he smiled into the eyes of his younger sister and they remembered that exchanged look the rest of their lives.
And sometimes the girl dreamed of it.
That and running calves, a pony named Patch and Sug Dog.
And the woodlands of Arkansas.
Many wordsmiths here who appreciate your prose. :wink: