Rain, glorious rain.
We left home with the first bunch of cows and calves this morning. We got wet doing it and loved every drop.
I had this silly feeling that the rain was for me alone. I am calmed. Of course the grass will come now, but it also means our trail to the hills will be dust free. And the cooler temperatures are heaven sent to help the cattle travel better. Kate drank from puddles all day today. It was glorious, and so green as to break your heart.
The first herd has the youngest calves. They are flighty, which is a mild way to put it. They came out of the gate, hit the wet grain fields, got scared and ran in bunches ahead of the herd. Katie, a skilled lead dog, did her best to contain them. She likes to get in front and check the movement, giving ground all the while to keep the movement coming ahead. It worked reasonably well, but you might have questioned that had you seen it. One calf turned back, but Mark and Anna were able to get around him and send him back to the herd.
We stopped twice to give them a chance to mother up, but these youngsters are confused and unwillingly to do much hunting for Mom. It all ended well though. We had a good crew rounded out by our own homegrown help. I even got a chance to give my little great nephew a ride on Sly.
The cattle will spend the night in a grassy “jumping off” pasture at the foot of Pullin Hill, the first ascent toward the Blackfoot River Mountains.
Wish us luck. I hope we get drenched!