Cowgirl Sass & Savvy

Holding herd 

by Julie Carter

A cowboy’s job varies widely from ranch to ranch, but one assignment is universal in both geography and generation --holding herd.

When cattle sorting is done out in the pasture as opposed to in the corrals where there is possibly a proper sorting alley, the cattle are driven into a fence corner or simply pushed up against a fence line. Surrounded by the horseback cowboy crew, one or two of the executive class cowboys will ride into the herd to sort.

Holding herd for a cattle sort of any kind is often considered menial labor. I suppose if you take into account you sit horseback for hours on end using not much brain power, enduring the dust, wind, heat, cold and butt-chewings from those cowboy executives, it can feel like the bottom rung of the cowboy career ladder.

The dignitary cutters sometimes get together for a little meeting in the middle of the herd and the conversation goes something like this:

            “What do you think about that one-horned cow over there?”

            “She’s pretty poor and more than a little long in the tooth.”

            “Sure has a nice calf on her though.”

            “Calf is probably stealing milk from the other cows to live.”

            “Don’t you reckon we can get one more calf out of her?”

            “Probably. A guy sure don’t want to ship any of his good cows.”

Time tends to drag when you are holding herd. You’ll see the pocket knives come out as herd holders begin to carve anything they can find to carve or clean their finger nails like there will be a hygiene inspection later.       

The tobacco can lids flash in the sun as chews are freshened.  The athletics of spitting tobacco juice in every direction including between your horses ears is a skill worthy of an Olympic event.

Every now and then, one cowboy will ease over to another and strike up a conversation all the while keeping one eyeball on the herd so as not to be slack in his duty.

Harassing the cutters is another way to pass the time. It is often passed off as attempts at being “helpful.” When cutting dry cows out of a herd, you’ll hear that helpful cowboy holler and point in the general direction of 250 black cows.

“Hey, that black one is dry, the one with the black face and two ears.”

Then there is the cowboy with the incurable roping disease. He lives for the moment something, preferably a bovine with a nice set of horns should these be horned cattle, eases to the edge of the herd and exhibits any appearance of an “escaper.”

Creating the impression he’s doing all he can to hold that animal where it belongs, he will actually do his best to drive him off. Once the critter makes a break, the cowboy will heroically put his spurs to his horse and leave in hot pursuit.

Later, this same cowboy will tell the boss with only the sincerest look on his face, “I sure hate to rope your cattle, but that yearling just had it on his mind to quit the bunch.”

The boss responds with sarcastic comment. “Those things happen. I didn’t mind the first time or the second or even the third, but that last time that steer nearly got back in the herd before you got your loop on him.”

The cowboy will pull his hat down, shuffle his feet and mutter something about maybe needing to get a faster horse.

Julie, trained in the trenches of herd holding, can be reached for comment at jcarternm@gmail.com.