By Julie Carter
In ranch country where the cow-calf
operations are in their most flourishing mode of branding the year’s new
calf crop, there is an age-old skill that goes unheralded among
everyone except the cowboy crowd.
“Mammying up” baby calves is the necessary
chore of helping them find their mother, or vice-versa, after being
separated for any given reason such as branding. The job takes time and
patience on the cowboy’s part, as well as a sharp sense of reading a cow
and calf’s actions, intentions and natural communication.
While this event takes place, the entire
herd is held in place by the crew assembled for the day’s work. This can
involve men, women and children of various sizes, ages and ability and
usually some combination of all those.
Holding herd for a cattle-sort of any kind
is often considered menial labor. I suppose if you take into account you
sit for hours using not much brain power, enduring the dust, wind,
heat, and laborious long hours, it can be classified as such.
What the untrained eye misses is the keen
sense of “cow sense” that is exhibited by the cowman that quietly rides
through the herd looking for each pair, mom and baby, as they
acknowledge each other in a secret, natural language.
I happened to be a kid lucky enough to
watch and learn from some of the best at that particular job. Quiet men
who taught by doing, not by saying. I never really knew I was learning
anything until the time came that I needed to be in the right place at
the right time. Instinct kicked in and it happened just like I knew what
I was doing.
Not every momma cow cares about searching
for her young and not every calf is in the mood to find his momma,
especially when it’s just been branded, vaccinated and maybe even
castrated. It would really rather just lay in the shade and rest up. So
the “mammying” takes time that means nothing to the cattle.
The hours tend to drag when you are holding
herd. You’ll see the pocket knives come out as herd holders begin to
carve on the calluses on their hands 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 and spitting tobacco in every direction including
between your horse’s ears becomes an Olympic event.
Every now and then a cowboy, not one to
remain anti-social for long, will ease over to another puncher and
strike up a conversation. All the while, he’ll be keeping one eyeball on
the herd so as not to be slack in his duty.
As a kid, holding herd was a job expected
of me, not verbalized. I just knew. Endless hours of sitting, twisting
around in my saddle, braiding my horse’s mane, looking around,
daydreaming and just generally being a kid.
Today, I know the experience to be fertile
ground for learning so many things. Quiet patience came a little slower,
but the ability to read what a cow is thinking before she does it
soaked in like the summer sun.
Lessons learned and treasured always.
6/7/11
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