THE WESTERNER: Surely

Time

Surely

And, now

By Stephen L. Wilmeth

We don’t stop playing because we grow old, … we grow old because we stop playing.

George Bernard Shaw

Time

In the flurry of days this week, I am reminded of a David Miller quote that goes along with Mr. Shaw’s. His was more contemporary, and, yet, it could have been said 100 years ago.

There is always something to be done on a ranch, and … if you don’t see something you aren’t looking.

That was the theme of things, and the week was spent in motion. It started with hope moisture would relieve our drought. It didn’t. What took place was enough rain to settle the dust and to make the mornings smell good.

We chased water anyway.

The new pump at the main well started the week by finally filling the system and allowing water to be diverted to the west side of the ranch to bolster supplies where demand is highest. Enough pressure was put on the line with multiple pumps, though, to blow a line in the shipping trap. The remedy was to install an isolation valve and split the flows. The fix was made, the valve was installed, and water was being discharged into a storage 18 miles from its source as this was being written.

What would Weldon and Elizabeth Burris, our long-time predecessors, have thought about that?

No doubt they would have smiled for a moment and then other matters would have diverted their attention. Joy would be fleeting and respite from it all could have been as simple as a lingering cup of coffee before meeting another sunrise and the demands of a new day. There are horses to shoe, bulls to work, brakes to be rebuilt, and bills to pay.

Time hasn’t changed much other than … us.

Surely

Years ago, 16 in fact, a little motley faced heifer calf found her way into our lives and our hearts. She became an orphan when her arrival resulted in a uterine prolapse in her mother. She couldn’t be saved. The calf was in need of help when we got to her and desperate enough our second granddaughter joined the chorus of her immediate and intensified care.

Surely, she can live!

She wound up in the backyard being fed a bottle three times a day, and remained there only until she jumped the fence and was relegated to a parked gooseneck trailer unless someone was with her. Surely became a feature and as much a family pet as the dogs.

When the grandkids arrived, she’d be on a leash and part of the play group as if she was just another one of them. During the days (another dogie calf had arrived by that time to make the gooseneck a shared bedroom), she and her running mate would be staked in the irrigated pasture at the house where she’d graze and sleep in the sun until somebody would arrive to mix a bottle of replacer and visit with her.

In the evening, we got to the point of first opening the gates in the gooseneck before turning her loose in the pasture only to have her run bucking and bawling to the trailer and jumping in knowing she’d be given another bottle.

She and her roommate both grew into healthy normal calves that had a definite shelf life in the ways of little girl garb and playing house. Surely was always different, though, from the other calf. She was a real pet. Her crowning event was the 6^th birthday party of that second granddaughter where she was center stage. She was brought in to be hugged and given her bottle by a passel of those little girls.

Closing her eyes and wagging her tail as she devoured her bottle, she was the definite hit.

Her downfall from that domestic life started the day she took aim at Noni and bowled her over as she ran bucking to the trailer that evening. The inevitable time had come.

That calf has got to go back to the ranch. She’s too old to be on that bottle anyway!

So, through tears and pleading to exchange worldly savings ($32.73 or something like that) for her permanent residence in town, she was returned to the ranch to become a cow. And, what a cow and a great little mother she became.

Nearly 16 years and 14 calves later she is still with us.

And, now

In the middle of the week, our youngest granddaughter, the little sister of the one who pledged her life’s savings to keep Surely in town, was with me horseback when we found Surely and her most recent calf (the only heifer calf in the whole string of 14 calves) and brought them to the corral.

There was purpose in the event.

Our current group of replacement heifers was being processed to turn out and they needed a mentor, an overseer, and a house mom. For a long time, we have placed an older cow or two with the heifers for guidance and mentorship. Surely has earned that consideration and she will do a good job.

It will also place her in a position where we can extend her health as we treat this group of calves differently with supplemental feed the producing herd does not receive. To give her more relief, we also weaned the heifer and placed her with another group of calves that the drought conditions have forced similar treatment.

Surely II, or Dos, will be kept.

So will the memories that surround the events and times in this relationship with what is a special little cow. Her teeth are not going to support her much longer, but the nostalgia and the exception of one special animal is going to get priority.

Surely, she will be remembered just like … Surely, you did live.