SATURDAY NIGHT AT THE WESTERNER

Uh huh, sure he did. I believe you.

By Julie Carter

I offer a caveat for the following story by saying "as it was told to me" simply because, while the source is quite reliable, the story itself is so wild your first instinct will be "that's a lie."

This is one of those "you gotta hear this one" stories.

Greg and Nancy headed out, stock trailer in tow, to get a neighbor's pink-eyed yearling (that's a young calf with a bacterial eye affliction that can eventually cause blindness) out of their pasture.

They didn't have a real plan of any kind but they also didn't take a horse. The calf was so blind they figured they could sneak up on him and "coax" him into the trailer.

The neighbor the critter belonged to didn't know how to rope and Greg was still nursing his $27,000 and counting shoulder surgery. So Nancy was the designated roper.

Her plan was a simple one. Just rope the calf and let the rope go. No problem.

She eased up on him and surprisingly, even to her, caught him with the first loop. He was blind enough he didn't go very far; at least until the young overly-enthusiastic neighbor ran to pick up the rope and spooked the calf.

The blind calf, now wearing Nancy's rope and towing the neighbor, ran off with the rest of the cows to the other end of the pasture. Reaching warp speed rather quickly, the neighbor finally had to turn loose of the rope.

The calf, still on the run, made a big circle through the cows. Running and stumbling, he was more afraid of the rope than anything else. It was a monster he couldn't see but knew it was following him.

The calf appeared to be headed home to his proper pasture but then he circled and headed back toward the cowboy crew standing at the trailer watching all this unfold.

Nancy made what at the time seemed like a smart-alecky comment, "Let's just open the trailer gate and maybe he'll load up on his own. He looks like he's heading right for it."

Still in joking mode, she moved to the end of the trailer and unlatched the trailer gate. The calf was still coming and at a pretty fast clip. She threw the gate back just in time for the calf to jump into the trailer.

They were all laughing very hard at that point. Nancy began claiming "Top Hand" honors when they realized someone probably ought to close the trailer gate.

That done, they were still in shock at the sight they had witnessed and were glad there were three of them to attest to it. Of course, then the discussion of where the credit was due began. Greg was sure he should have all the honors because he positioned the trailer just right on the road.

The neighbor claimed accolades for running the calf fast enough and far enough for him to circle back to the trailer and get in it with considerable momentum.

This exciting adventure took about half an hour and nobody had to unsaddle horses when they got home. It seems like if a day was going that well, they should have gone on to town and bought up some lottery tickets.

Telling that story to some poor west Texas winter wheat pasture puncher who is wearing an entire dry goods store on his back could elicit a violent reaction.

It's been my experience that any complaining done about the difficulty of loading sick cattle in a trailer brought, not ever, the highly unlikely moment of a critter loading by himself.

It did get me a new trailer ball welded to the top rail of the trailer to dally a rope around for leverage.

Not everybody can be a "top hand." I'm glad I at least know a few.

© Julie Carter 2006


Farewell to Summer

I am especially looking forward to this year's State Fair and Labor Day celebration, because that is how we say farewell to summer in South Dakota.

I am tired of drought, wildfires and triple digit temperatures. Those are important (critical in some cases) events we must deal with. However, we don't have to live them every single day. It's time for a break.

If the ag economy is a little pinched this year, the State Fair (Aug. 31st – Sept. 4th) is the perfect place to take that break with the family, meet some old and new friends and check out the best agricultural products the state produces.

Fairs are many different things to many different people. For some, it is the last family camping trip of the season. For some, it is an annual binge on carnival rides. For some, it is serious 4-H or FFA or open class competition. For others, it is a chance to show "agriculture and farming" to their children raised in a city. For some, it is the almost non-stop stream of entertainment, crowds and foods.

Some people come each year just for their favorite event or specialty food. I don't know if I would drive a hundred miles for a "smoothie", but I would for some those hot-off-the-grill BBQ meats sold at the fair each year.

In addition to all the usual attractions and events, we are going to kick the fair off with nationally televised bull riding championships on Aug. 30th, followed by three nights of professional entertainment and ending with Labor Day auto races Monday evening.

Whatever the attraction might be for you, we hope it will provide you with a break from the troubles and toils of this drought dominated summer.

They say Labor Day became a national holiday in 1894 when President Grover Cleveland signed it into law to appease the labor forces and workers he had offended. If that's true, it didn't work. They voted him out.

The official web page for the United States Department of Labor says nobody knows for sure who first proposed the idea of a national holiday for workers, but it was first "celebrated" by strikers on parade in New York City on the first Tuesday in September. Before Congress acted in 1894, 23 states made Labor Day a legal holiday for workers.

In any case, most seem to agree that Labor Day has become a celebration of the unofficial end to summer. What better way to celebrate Labor Day than to provide a break for the farmers and ranchers who work 15 hours (or more) a day during the summer to provide America with the food and fiber we need?

We will survive this drought, the wildfires and anything else that needs surviving, and during the next "little ice age" that inevitably follows spells of global warming, future fairgoers will meet and debate whether Labor Day is just too cold for a good State Fair.

Won't that be fun?