Adventure in the Milk Cow Pasture

head high, nostrils flairing, hooves prancing, tail flowing in the wind

It is sunny and warm as I run to the barn. Grabbing Chip's bridle, I head for the pasture along the Calamus River. I wonder if I should stop for some grain on my way by the grainery, but decide not to.

Going south, I crawl through the barb wire fence and head across the meadow. The horses aren't very far away. Blondie, the Palamino Quarter Horse, Duke and Red the sorrel Quarter Horses, and Chip, my pony.

They are watching me walk across the meadow. I drop to the ground. Chip's head goes up in a flash. Chip is the "watch dog" of the group. He trots toward me a bit. Then I stand up and walk a few steps, then down I go again. Here he comes: head high, nostrils flairing, hooves prancing, tail flowing in the wind. I hold my "empty" hand out and hide the bridle behind my back. He knows all these tricks, but sometimes they still work. When he slowly approaches to smell my hand the trap is sprung and I quickly wrap the reins around his neck. He trys to turn away, but I hang on tight. When he surrenders, I put his bridle on and mount up.

As we ride toward the gate, over the edge of a hill, I see the silhouettes of a band of Indians. They are whooping and riding hard to catch me. I kick Chip and the race is on. We are riding hard and fast. They are gaining on us, but we aren't caught yet.

We finally get to the gate and get through just ahead of the Indians. I shut the gate and they turn and circle their horses a bit before riding back where they came from. Chip and I ride on, a little out of breath, but otherwise unhurt. We trot on about our business.

It is time to bring the milk cow in for the evening so Dad can milk her in the morning. We ride towards the milk cow pasture to bring her in. Riding along over the hills we see a jackrabbit lope up a hill. As he reaches the crest, he settles quickly and drops his ears down flat to his body. He's sure he can't be seen. We will let him be and ride on after the milk cow. Riding around, we gather her up and head her towards home.

As we ride back over the hill, we catch up with a line of Longhorns trailing along. The line wanders over the next hill and down out of sight. Up in the distance I could see hundreds of Longhorns curling back and forth across the valleys and over the hills. The air is thick with dust and hard to breath. Chip and I fall in behind them and ride drag.

Up ahead we see a rider coming toward us. He rides easy in the saddle. He has ridden this trail before. Covered in dust, he pulls along side and pulls his knickerchief down from over his nose. Charlie Goodnight extends a hand in greeting. We ride along in silence, watching for laggers.

Riding along mile after mile, we finally stop for the day. As they bed the Longhorns down and gather around the campfire, I say "so long." Goodnight shakes my hand and thanks me for the help. "Anytime" I say, "just give a holler." Chip, the milk cow and I trot off into the sunset.

On the way home we cross a blow out. The sand is clean and shining; the ripples making little shadows in the late afternoon sun. It looks kinda like a rodeo arena.

That's when we enter the bareback bronc riding in the rodeo. Chip is a mean bronc that has never been rode. I am a champion bareback rider going for a first place buckle. I throw my arm up in the air and ride that bronc with everything I have. Eight seconds later, I am still with him and the crowd is cheering as I collect my silver buckle.

On home we go, riding along and enjoying the evening sun. We run the cow in the corral and shut the gate. I turn Chip out with the other horses, do the rest of my chores and head for the house. We had fun today; I wonder where we will go tomorrow.