This past Sunday afternoon, my husband was getting ready to saddle a new horse he'd gotten in and he asked me to drive through the cattle and make sure everyone was in.
I should probably back up a little as the night before he was gone to a rodeo as he was entered in the ranch bronc riding. I'd waited until it had cooled off a little before going to check the cows at the house. Of course both boys wanted to go with me. I found all the cows, but noticed a calf was on the other side of the fence. I tried rather unsuccessfully to get this calf back on our side and even managed to find the easiest opening gate on the place.
"Calf 29 is on the neighbors. Tried to get it back in. Failed." Was my text to him. I was mad. I think the boys were scared of my driving going back to the house. The next day Chance told me that he was afraid we'd get arrested for driving that fast. Older brother assured him there’s no cops in the pasture.
So, back to Sunday afternoon. It was Father's Day and we'd been to town to celebrate my husband with a meal and a gift. He'd gotten new rear billets for his back cinch on the saddle he used at the rodeo. While he was working on the saddle I headed out to check cattle with the 4-wheeler. This time I'd managed to get away from the house without the boys, but had our two Corgi dogs in tow. They love riding on there.
I find the cattle bunched up in the corner of the hotwire trap, but after further exploration find more than half of the calves are out and the fence isn't hot. I call my husband to see what I need to do. "Put them back in." I was told. "Sure. I'll do that by myself," I said sarcastically. Apparently he had more faith in my abilities than I did.
I managed to get the 4-wheeler across the hotwire and get the calves in. Then went back to turn the charger back on only to find the majority of the calves I had just put in were back out. So I headed to put them back in when the 4-wheeler puttered to a halt. Sure enough, I was out of gas. I called for help.
Once the dogs and I were rescued, I questioned him as to whether he's going to help me get the cows moving towards the gate. Initially he said no, but he went ahead and got them moving out of the corner. I got the rest of the calves back under the un-hotwire and put the insulator back on the post. Luckily the cattle were ready for water any way and didn't give me too much trouble getting out the gate.
I felt awfully accomplished for getting 40 some cows plus their calves out the gate in one piece and I still had the dogs on the back of the scooter. That all ended in about 5 minutes when I tried to close the gates. Apparently I'm weaker than I remembered.
I still wanted to get a cow count and especially a calf count since I didn't see the calf that was out the night before. I got the numbers I was looking for and of course that calf was still on the wrong side of the fence. At this point I'd had enough fun and drove back to the house.
Again my sense of accomplishment was squashed when I told my husband the calf was on the other side of the fence still and I couldn't get to him. He made it back in no time after completing the task. I'll let him have that victory because I'd had enough for one day.
But as much as it bothered me, I'm sure glad he pushed me to do what I had to do Sunday afternoon. Granted I know it's because he wanted to get that horse rode, but I'd * almost * like to think he thinks I can handle some tasks by myself, even when my self-confidence (or lack there of) gets in the way.