The colt unbroke and three years old The Ebay item that goes unsold The rude child that’s never been told … Continue reading Don’t buy 44.
Lunch usually gets wrapped up pretty quick on days like these and so we were back at the pens loading up a little before 1:00 pm.
I had saddled the paint horse right before lunch so all I had to do was grab a bit since Dick had already loaded the horses when Dad and I arrived. Everyone else was riding the horse they rode that morning. Lilly did fine, but she’s not ready for what we may get into this afternoon.
Well we headed down 202 until we got to Trunkline and took a left back into the ranch. Down the dusty old ranch roads we went. Two ranch rigs, the rolling pens, and my grandfather in his trusty chevy punching through the rising dust that hadn’t been hit by a drop of rain in more than eight months. About twenty minutes later we got to the lake and left everything but the rolling pens. If you rattle a bunch of stock trailers up to a trap of Brahmans that haven’t seen anybody since this time last year, you can’t be surprised when you arrive and don’t have many cattle to work. Continue reading “Cowboy Consistancy in South Texas: Going 4 for 4 (part 2)”
Anybody who has worked cattle in the brush country of South Texas knows that consistancy isn’t really part of the deal. Sure, there’s a plan when you get started, but you never know what’s going to happen.
Before I get to far into this story, let me set the stage a bit. I head south from San Antonio, Texas every Thursday to a place I like to call Quincy. Sometimes I am tasked with riding as many horses as humanly possible before 3:00 or 4:00 pm, roping till dark, and then heading back home. Those are the days I live for. Most days though, we work cattle. Truth be told, I live for those days as well.
Well yesterday we worked cattle. I headed out around a quarter till 6:00 after I fed the horses and loaded up some old roping calves that I was returning to the ranch. Just south of Pleasanton the sun started to rise and I knew it was going to be a beautiful day.
The calves and I arrived around 8:00 am and I met my dad, Morgan, at his house. We fed some of the weanling colts and headed over to the Murphy to drop off the calves and put out some round bales.
“So what do yall have going to day,” I asked him.
“We’ve got some trapped over at the Cat and Pop’s got some over in Little Quincy and the Coots,” was Dad’s response. Continue reading “Cowboy Consistancy in South Texas: Going 4 for 4 (part 1)”