Pets? You Bet!

I know it is just a matter of time before some old cattleman guffaws at me and my cows.  Every one I own would be considered a "pet" by any self-respecting cowboy out there.  Not that every cow will eat out of my hand and let me scratch her brisket; I have several that just aren't so chummy.  But it is a proven fact that cattle business and pets just don't mix.  Or do they?

This article is inspired partly from my most recent visit to the pasture.  10 miles out of town on a small road, then 3 miles to the ranch headquarters via dirt road.  This is where we unload an ATV for the final leg of the journey, which consists of a 45-60 minute "buzz" over 7 miles of trails through 3 canyons before we finally reach the gate into our leased pasture.  You see, I'm not lucky enough to own my own grass.  YET. 

The pasture I lease is approximately 176 acres, which is small beans out here, and is contained on three sides by sheer cliff drop-offs.  Eventually, my lease will encompass 700 acres, once some fencing is in place.  All that said, the pasture is high in the Davis Mountains (hence the cliffs), and is so rocky that the ATV is no longer of any use.  Trust me, I get myself into some sticky situations on that iron horse, and this is one place that defeats me. The pasture hasn't been used in over 10 years, and the live oak, scrub cedar and especially catclaw has grown to the point that I can barely find a passable walking trail to water - an old header dam that catches enough water during the rainy season to be quite proud of itself.  As yet, there is no road through the pasture, only to it.  You certainly won't catch anyone riding a horse in that pasture, I guarantee you! 

On top of the rough terrain and large acreage, my last trip was uniquely surrounded in FOG.  Yup.  Fog in Texas.  Probably a once in a lifetime event, but Saturdays are currently my one chance per week to see the  cows.  We were going anyway.  Visibility was probably 20 feet, and frost was settling on everything, making the world look like Narnia. 

All the way up, I wondered how I expected to see the cows.  If they had been "normal" cows, there'd be no way I'd see more than one or two.  We pulled up to the gate, and I called the way I usually do.  Immediately, there was the sound of hooves, and in less than 10 minutes out of the fog came 13 of my 17 cows in that pasture!  Yes, two of the missing girls were Louise and Clara (see "Meet the Girls"), but I got to visit nearly everyone. 

Now tell me if any "real" cowboy can do that!  Pets won't make you profit?  I know I won't have to rent a helicopter to get my girls out of there! My expense is $7 per week in alfalfa cubes, and no more time than simply checking on them.  In fact, I get to  watch them far more closely while they're eating their treats; as opposed to a flash of color and a few hoof beats before she's over the horizon. 

I can walk to the gate, give a call, and watch (hear, actually) them come racing up from all corners of the pasture.  If I wanted them through the gate, they'd go in a heartbeat.  I can drive them for miles over rocky roads and not lose a goofy one in the trees; the worst trouble I have is that one will stop and let me scratch her for a few minutes before resuming her trek.  I can wander amongst them in the pasture, and never fear that one is going to aggressively dislike my close proximity. And best of all, I can efficiently utilize pastures that ordinary cattlemen with ordinary cows cannot.

So do I raise pets?  Yup.  And I'm proud of 'em.

P.S. Guess I have to eat my words....fog is a thrice in a lifetime event in West Texas.  The two visits after I wrote this article were both just as foggy.  Weird.