Thursday, January 3, 2013

Bull...

As black as purest ebony and with a head large enough to fill the front end of a Volkswagen, this behemoth bull, misnomered Dandelion, eyed me steadily from the chute in which he awaited his turn for vaccination and insect doping.

My job on this frigid, wet day was clambering atop the chutes and working the gates to release the cattle from one stage of the process to the next and to keep them moving. My feet, layered with three pair of socks and loosely shoved into my husband's oversized rubber boots, struggled against seeping numbness from the cold as I grappled for a steadier hold atop the highest rails on both sides of the chute. Dande was a picture of simmering power, from his massive hooves upwards through his colossal shoulders and back and into an impossibly enormous neck.

He was a new bull to our herd, and one who already showed he was not the fairly docile animal his predecessors were. I have never been afraid of cattle and have worked with them since I could walk, but something about Dande alerted me to take extra caution; to be very aware around him. .

The cows in front of Dande processed through each phase with no problems. My husband and Teenaged Daughter did their jobs with practiced efficiency and it soon came time for Dande to move into the final staging area.

The yard around the corral was already a putrid quagmire, with the drizzle producing a sticky mud that mixed with the near- diarrhea inevitably poured out by nervous cattle. The cows and calves who had already been released stayed near the working pens, crowding our area and causing us to shout to be heard over their indignant moos.

"Honey, be careful- we don't know what to expect with Dande, " my husband cautioned me.

"Don't worry! He's not going to be a problem, " I yelled back.

Teenaged Daughter braced herself and took a firm grip on the last small chute gate, which she would close and thus lock Dande into place once he stepped up into it. My husband grasped tightly the two levers that control the head gate that would clamp around Dande's gargantuan neck and hold his head in place once Dande pushed through.

My husband would then quickly jab Dande with two different vaccinations and afterwards free him into the pasture to be with his harem. All that was left to set things into motion was me getting Dande to move on up to the last part of the chute.

That was the plan.

Straddling the top of the chute and balanced in too-large boots on the top rails, I opened the  gate in front of Dande, which for most cattle is incentive to move quickly forward. I tensed and held tightly.

Dande didn't budge. He didn't even flinch. "Go on, go on, " I urged him. Like a statue, he remained cemented into place.

I released my hand holds from the post, carefully inched my way farther back behind Dande, and pulled up a rattle paddle, a plastic oar- shaped instrument with rattles inside, used to swat the behinds of reluctant bovines. I tapped him on the behind and shook it, creating a racket. Still, he acted as if he'd turned to stone.

Mindful of my tenuous hold, I carefully looked back to see how much more room I had to maneuver.

In that split second, something in Dande exploded. In a move so quick I didn't even see all of it, he reared up, catching a front leg over the top of the six foot high chute. Now enraged, he bellowed and jerked backwards, freeing himself in the front and kicking with his hind feet the rails atop which I was perched.

I dropped like a rock outside the chute, landing butt first in the manure/mud cesspool below me. The bounce took me over on my side, coating three fourths of me with the fetid stuff.

I was initially stunned until the splatter from fleeing, startled cows pelted my face.

I struggled to get to my feet, sliding and stumbling, causing more of the sludge to ooze down the inside of my boots.

With his view of me obstructed, my husband called out, "You OK, honey?"

I spat manure/ mud from my mouth before I could answer. I choked out, "Fine...I'm fine."

Dande looked at me, bobbed his head, and took three dainty steps forward, placing his head into the neck gate as if he'd trained all his life for it.

"Wow, he's been much easier than I thought he would be! " my husband remarked happily as he finished the vaccinations. "You really are a good old fellow aren't you?" he cooed as Dande demurely blinked.








66 comments:

  1. Would it work better next time if you wield the needles?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. vanilla: Next time I shall be dong precisely that!

      Delete
  2. :-)

    Well, it's not really funny, is it, being spattered with loose dung and indignities.

    Still. I can see you there, butt in the mud, while the lousy bull steps forward and your husband purrs about ol' Dande's docility.

    :-) You tough thing, you. Lavender bath salts, my dear!

    Pearl

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pearl: I also think a spa trip is in order to help restore my dignity to me...

      Delete
  3. O Lord, If that was me, that bull would have to watch his back from then on.... ;-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sinder Ella: Next time we work them, I am never taking my eyes off of him...

      Delete
  4. Ick. Ick...wow....funnier what your husband said with you sitting in poop!! Great way to end this story!! (memory) Oh, gosh. You are such a good sport.

    When I was 4,my dad was a farmer and I went to go see him in the barn and fell into a hole of manure, screaming and stuck, in what I thought was quicksand, my 3 year old brother was the only one who saw me and he ran to tell my dad, who couldn't understand him....but they finally came, I guess it was waste deep on me. Pretty sure I didn't get it in my mouth though...and now that I'm a mother, I feel sorry for my mama--she had to clean me up!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jamie: Oh, gosh- that would have traumatized me at that age! YUCK! It's hard to know even where to start when cleaning up something as epic a mess as that!

      Delete
  5. Yours is one of my favorite blogs because of the attention you put into your writing. Your stories are always so crisply written, so visual. I wish more bloggers wrote better and griped less. Take care and Happy new Year.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Stephen: Thank you! Although some of the visuals in this story aren't too savory...

      Happy New Year to you and yours!

      Delete
  6. (First of all, welcome back and happy new year, dear friend)

    Holy smoke, Shelly! I was afraid to read on, fearing that you were going to fall inside the pen with the raging bull. Landing in that cesspool of mud and dung was bad enough but sharing a stall with Dandelion... well, let's not even go there. I'm glad you weren't hurt. This process of vaccination and insect doping you described along with the rattle prod - it is all brand new to me and very interesting and educational. Thank you for enlightening this city slicker as to the way it's done out there in the wild wild west. Once again, I'm so glad to see you again, Shelly. You've been missed!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Shady: Thank you, my friend! I missed the blogging world and am glad to be back. I am so thankful I didn't end up in the chute, although it was quite the mess on the other side! And it does truly feel like the wild wild west here at times~

      Delete
  7. Great story, I hope the story finds a wider audience than just the internet. Too good not to share with a wider audience. (As someone raised on a farm, I have had more than enough of my own experience like the one you describe)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much! Since you were also raised on the farm, I'm sure you understand just how vile that mud/ muck was~

      Delete
  8. Hi Shelly. Lovely to see you here today. Welcome back! Yuck! That's all I can say really. Ugh, I can just imagine that putrid smell, and you being covered in the stuff! Dandelion! What a pretty name for a very big beast!! I'm afraid I would have had to say a few choice words to my husband if he had said that, whilst I was squelching around in all that mess!!! Wishing you and all your family a very happy, healthy and blessed new year.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thisisme: It was grosser than I could even describe! And yes, my husband couldn't believe I had actually toppled off into that stuff when he finally saw me. Dandelion's name needs to be changed, for sure.

      Thank you, my friend, and I hope this New Year brings you sunshine and abundance!

      Delete
  9. First of all, Shelly, I am glad to know you are okay. I was almost afraid to read on to see what happened to you. I just don't have it in me to do what you do, I admire you so much. It was educational to read some new terms. I can't imagine how gross. I have come up with a new name for Dandelion but I will spare you my silly BS, you've had enough. Sorry Shelly, couldn't help it, just in that kind of mood. I am glad you are good natured and put up with me. ;~D

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Cindy: I laughed so hard I almost cried! Ha!!! I love you, friend~

      Delete
  10. I love your attention to detail, and I was so happy to see you write about working the cows! That gunk is gross to step in, and I can't imagine wearing it and having to spit it out. The last part of that story was like an I Love Lucy bit!
    -Amy

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Amy: Normally, it's a little messy and dirty, but nothing like this. Just no words to adequately describe how gross...

      Delete
  11. Oh my goodness I know this had to be so so gross and you are very fortunate to not have been hurt! I can imagine the muck and mire.

    Oh my goodness didn't you even get aggravated at your hubby's typical male response? I love men and how they respond to situations. You have just disappeared out of his site after being kicked off of a gate by a huge bull and he ask..."You okay honey?".

    Oh I do love your stories and I hope you write for publication because you can really tell a mighty good tale!!

    I look forward to each new story you write about. You should be writing these as short stories! They are excellent!!

    I ♥ them! :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jackie: Thank you for your kind words! Once my husband saw me and realized I had been knocked off the chute instead of jumping off, he was very helpful. Although if I had heard a bull erupting like that and knew he was near...

      Delete
  12. I was so worried about what was going to happen next that I forgot that it was you writing the story, and that of course you were ok. But... yuck. Just... yuck. You're a trouper, and if I'd heard my husband go on about how easy the bull had been I'd have been tempted to throw a little mud and muck myself.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. karen: Ha! He did feel kind of bad when he saw how dirty I was and I told him what had happened. I do think a spa day is in order, now~

      Delete
  13. Oh my! I guess this is why I'm a city gal!! I bet you were glad to have a chance to finish your work and go in and get cleaned up!! That Dande, he sure was a dandy!

    betty

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. betty: Country life is nice, but one thing's almost certain: you're usually going to end up getting dirty, somehow, someway!

      Delete
  14. You are such a good storyteller, Shelley! Wow! And obviously an excellent cowgirl...just pick yourself up, brush off the muck and back to business.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Linda: Thank you! And working with cattle is never going to be a pastime where you can stay clean, so I've just come to expect getting dirty (although the epic-ness of that last mess was unexpected...)

      Delete
  15. I was hoping it really wasn't you - but it was. ICK! You are a woman of courage. sandie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sandie: Well, I am a woman of great mess after yesterday, that's for sure~

      Delete
  16. Well, it's plain to see that your splat into the mire scared Dandelion and that's why he started behaving. You intimidated him! You have the power, Shelly! Use it only for good :)

    On a serious note, I'm glad you are safe and sound. Muck can be washed away. And you're a terrific sport about it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. jenny_o: I like the way you think, girl! My power...yes, I shall use it only for good! :)

      And yes, all's well that ends well~

      Delete
  17. My nose is scrunched all the way up!

    ReplyDelete
  18. Loved the whole story, especially the ending with your husband praising the bull! I am so glad you weren't badly hurt. My husband used to work with cows and bulls and knows how to call them etc. They scare me because they are so big. I hate working in the cold - for me that would be the worst part!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Belle: This bull makes me very wary- I don't trust him at all~

      Delete
  19. Sorry I was l'il busy lately with redecorating my place :D YAAAAAAAAAY..
    So I didn't have much time to blog, but I really do miss this place girl :DSure will visit you more often..
    Have a Blasting day

    xoxo
    http://abudhabifood.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. LoLy: What fun! So glad to see you back in blogland!

      Delete
  20. You write the best stories! I'm so glad that you had a soft landing, although I'm sure that didn't taste very good.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jenny: I debated aboutt his one because it is so gross, and I'm still trying to get that phantom taste out of my mouth! Thank you~

      Delete
  21. Another great story! That "fetid splash" was gross!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lydia: It was beyond revolting- just not even appropriate words to describe it!

      Delete
  22. This ranch girl has so been there! lol Poor love, it's the indignity of it all that smarts (and smells)...yes, spa day for you!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Chantel: My fellow ranch girl! What irks me most is I get the feeling from old Dande that he thinks he won that battle. We shall see, though, we shall see...

      Delete
  23. Great story, love the visuals I had while reading. I grew up on a farm...though I'm quite the town girl now...:)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Michelle: I do love our rural life, but I could do without the manure baths...

      Delete
  24. Oh my Gosh I was sitting on the edge of my chair. I am so glad you are OK. I understand this and have had a few mouthfuls of manure and boots full of mud in this business myself. Scary but it seems to work out. As I get older I find it a little less invigorating and must admit landing on the ground is a little more scary thinking about my old bones and can they still take it:)
    We are almost done calving right now and the bull will be back shortly I do hope he still remembers me. He is a happy fellow and I am sure your guy is too they just want to show who is really the "boss" even while smiling:) Take care be safe. Great writing. B

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Buttons: It's always a good thing to have happy bulls- makes for happy cows and happy humans. I hope he does remember you. Dande, on the other hand, may have been having a bad day...still not too sure about him. He surely throws good calves, though, so I will just have to learn to get along with him, I guess. Thank you!

      Delete
  25. I have a bull story also! At the age of 2, I wandered away from home and they found me trying to get a kitten who happened to be right under a bull...AT A farm 1 mile away. Hello..where were my parents.

    Great story...!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Christine: I would have had a heart attack if I had been your mom! Girl, you live dangerously! And one mile away? Whew! :)

      Delete
  26. Bulls scare me why because they are so big and do so much damage.........this story had me on the edge of my seat feeling a bit uneasy and I am safe in front of my computer

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jo_Anne: Most of them are no problem, but it will be a very long time before I trust Mr. Dande again!

      Delete
  27. It was nice of your husband to praise the bull. I have seen cows every where in India, but for some reason bulls were always tied up so they stay grounded securely. I used to feel sorry for them as they could not graze as freely as cows did. Then as I grew up my cousin's nanny told me the real reason why bulls were not let loose. LOL no fault of their own there.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Munir: That is true- they are just being who they are. I am, though, going to be very mistrusting of Dande for some time to come~

      Delete
  28. Oh, that must have been so frustrating. You have a lot of patience, Shelly.

    ReplyDelete
  29. Glad you were okay!

    Much easier for your husband than you! He wasn't spitting out manure!

    ReplyDelete
  30. Dearest Shelly,
    I've never seen cows before(^^;) So sorry that I still haven't got the strength to read all of your wonderful writing yet. I promise come back again later day after catching the meaning, my friend♡♡♡
    Thank you SO MUCH for your thoughtful comment. Although I'm still feeling a bit groggy, I finally start facing pc and catching up visiting friends p;) See you later, my sweet friend.
    Love you always from Japan, xoxo Miyako*

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, my dear friend Miyako, I so hope and pray you feel better very soon. Have you been to a dr. yet? Please get some rest and take good care of yourself. Sending you a big Texas hug!

      Delete
  31. Hi Shelly! Happy New Year!
    What a story! I'm not sure if you realize how well written this is. It's fantastic! You had me hanging on every word. I loved it. There is no doubt that you could get this published in any number of magazines.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pat: Happy New Year to you, too! Ha- it surely was a messy day- thank you!

      Delete
  32. this week here in Pa is Farm Show week..we have never missed this fun event..we go and pretty much gawk and come back with A LOT of respect for farmers....and now your tale...
    what a story!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Annmarie: It's a life I love, but I could do without some of the things like what happened here...

      Delete
  33. I grew up on a farm and we had a few houses on it where all our family lived and one day my sister was sleeping with her window above her bed open and a cow escaped from the pen. She woke up to a giant cow head about five inches from her face. Scared the crap out of her.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Julie: Ack! What a thing to wake up to, even when you are used to them!

      Delete

I love to hear from you! I also love to comment back.