Steer on the Loose!
"I think it'll be good this evening." — cit. yesterday's post.
Well, it was. More than good — it was exciting, crazy and even stressful at times. Let me tell you about it.
I pulled into the D's lane at 6 pm and was met by their youngest daugher Keslie.
"Mom's out pressure-washing..." [and, eventually] "...the boys bought a cow today."
"Like a milking cow?"
"No, it's a steer. It's going to be their project."
In the absence of her other family members, Keslie showed me around the house. It was absolutely trashed before they began work on it — it had been vandalized (complete with graffiti) and there were numerous dead birds laying around. There was a pile of pellets in the living room, a gaping pipe hole in the wall — the only remnants of a pellet stove that was stolen from the house. The kitchen faucet spurted water from its base. They are receiving a year's free rent for fixing the place.
Keslie was showing me pictures on their computer when Rhonda came into the house. I asked her what she was pressure washing.
"The shed where the boys are going to keep their cow. Do you think we need to sanitize it since it had pigs in it before?"
I didn't think so.
Keslie was showing me their family's golden retriever puppies when the male members of her family arrived in a white truck pulling a small trailer.
"Do you want to go see the cow?"
Of course I did, so we watched them unload the beast into the shed.
Aaron, the 13 yr old, to me: "You can look at the cow and tell me if it's healthy."
"...you can check for sores to see if it has foot and mouth disease [trying to recall cow things from my studies]... but you live in the US so that shouldn't be an issue."
"I don't even know what that is" -- Aaron about FMD.
So I gave a mini lecture to my somewhat uncaptive audience.
Keslie and I were gazing at the steer through openings in the shed's eastern side (there was sort of a half wall there). It looked healthy enough to me — a little on the thin side, but nothing else noticeable.
Keslie to her dad Ted: "Are you going to take the ear tags off?"
Ted attempted to approach the animal. The steer eyed him warily, head lowered. Shortly, Ted was too close for the critter's comfort and the steer headed in the opposite direction -- toward the wall where Keslie and I were standing! He attempted to jump through one of the openings, got stuck, loosed himself in a jiffy, and was free. Free in the wide expanse of the D's property, free to roam where he might. To the north were Hwy 34 and cars. To the south were acres of newly raked/planted dirt. He headed for The Field.
I ran out there, circled around him, and discouraged his further southern progress. Keslie, Aaron, Josiah (their other boy, 11 years) and Rhonda eventually joined the effort.
"Are you having fun Claire?" asks Keslie.
"Oh yeah." I really was. She or Aaron asked me the same thing a little later. It was still true.
So we had 'im marginally contained, but how to get him back to the shed?
"We need some grain and a rope," I commented to the others. I don't really know what would have happened if I had gotten the rope on the steer. It might not have been very pretty (although the steer really wasn't an evil beast) -- but it was a thought.
The grain and rope didn't show up for a while. We got the steer back to the yard, spent some significant time trying to keep it from going on the highway, trying to get it into a machine shed, trying to entice it with feed...
Once we got it corralled with some largely unsupported fencing. Rhonda and I were holding the fencing up on the south side, the steer came over, sniffed it and ploughed over. I'll have to admit I didn't do my part keeping the fence tight -- I didn't think we could hold it in, anyway, and I guess I didn't want the steer excited by having to really push its way through.
After a time the beast took off west toward the Calapooia River, heading out over that part of the Field and eventually reaching the Underbrush, the Land of Stickery Tall Weeds, and the Pine Tree Farm. We were messing around in that general vicinity when Keslie drew my attention to a police car. As we found out later, Rhonda had called the fire station to see if their volunteers could come give us a hand and the policeman came out instead. I figured he might just shoot the animal and get it over with -- it was a pretty big risk having it loose so close to the highway. I worried slightly that he might aim for something white and get my headcovering instead.
Well, the police fellow didn't stick around very long, but a couple other fellows came to give us a hand (Scott Swartzentruber and his brother Ben). Ben headed throught the Underbrush and possibly the Spiderweb Forest (which kindly endowed me with its webbing) with us. We came across a small cabin with a stack of wood -- "I hope there's not some guy living there who'd come out and shoot me for trespassing. I have good reason to be here, really..."
At some point I was on the edge of a Land of Stickery Tall Weeds, and Scott was in the Lowlands with the calf, all by himself.
"Get down on the other side!" he yelled. And there I was, looking at this Very Dense patch of Very Tall weeds. I couldn't see the ground I'd have to step on if I did plow straight through.
"I don't know how to get down there!" said I. But there was a will and there was a way through the dense patch, and I found myself in the Lowlands.
The steer headed east, and I thought Scott said something about getting on the other side of a mini forest. "Um, it's really dense, and I don't know if I can get through." I headed up the rise toward the dense mini forest. It was navigable -- though I sported a lengthy tear in my dress by the time I reached the other side. (Torn dresses aside, plowing through underbrush and forests really is fun. It's a little bit reminiscent of playing Capture the Flag in our West Salem forest back in the good olds.)
Following the mini forest, there were more Lowlands, and then a hill that headed up toward the highway. It might have been then, might have been later on that the steer got dangerously close to the top of that hill and I yelled "You guys need to keep the cow from getting on the road!!!" If they had asked me if I was having fun then... well, I'd've had to say "No." Too much stress with real potential for disaster. It seemed like the cause was a goner -- but I guess the steer really didn't want to go on the highway, and it didn't. Whew!
We got the beast close to the shed, and closed in on it. But it broke away and ran west again. "It's heading out there and there needs to be someone between it and the road." So I started running, too, sort of parallel to the cow on the north side.
"Claire, stop running!!"
I guess it was sort of dumb -- I was just exciting the cow further, making it run farther. But I didn't want it going way far away again.
More floundering around in the brush -- and maybe that was the time the cow got really close to the road.
We got the cow back in the field, and closed in, forcing it toward the shed.
Claire, to Keslie and Josiah: "I think we need to just shoot it. We're not going to get it in. Maybe call animal control and see if they can tranquilize it." And there I was, being one of those awful pessimistic adults that steal hope from children. Ugh.
Hey, well, I was proven wrong. They enclosed it with fencing, and it walked inside the building with little ado. Bravo!
"Claire, is our cow healthy?" asked Aaron.
"Um, yeah, I'd have to say so," I stated with a laugh.
It was about 8:30. We had been chasing the steer for 1.5 to 2 hours.
"So, Claire, what was the most fun part of the evening?" Aaron asked after supper.
"Chasing the cow."
You betcha.
Well, it was. More than good — it was exciting, crazy and even stressful at times. Let me tell you about it.
I pulled into the D's lane at 6 pm and was met by their youngest daugher Keslie.
"Mom's out pressure-washing..." [and, eventually] "...the boys bought a cow today."
"Like a milking cow?"
"No, it's a steer. It's going to be their project."
In the absence of her other family members, Keslie showed me around the house. It was absolutely trashed before they began work on it — it had been vandalized (complete with graffiti) and there were numerous dead birds laying around. There was a pile of pellets in the living room, a gaping pipe hole in the wall — the only remnants of a pellet stove that was stolen from the house. The kitchen faucet spurted water from its base. They are receiving a year's free rent for fixing the place.
Keslie was showing me pictures on their computer when Rhonda came into the house. I asked her what she was pressure washing.
"The shed where the boys are going to keep their cow. Do you think we need to sanitize it since it had pigs in it before?"
I didn't think so.
Keslie was showing me their family's golden retriever puppies when the male members of her family arrived in a white truck pulling a small trailer.
"Do you want to go see the cow?"
Of course I did, so we watched them unload the beast into the shed.
Aaron, the 13 yr old, to me: "You can look at the cow and tell me if it's healthy."
"...you can check for sores to see if it has foot and mouth disease [trying to recall cow things from my studies]... but you live in the US so that shouldn't be an issue."
"I don't even know what that is" -- Aaron about FMD.
So I gave a mini lecture to my somewhat uncaptive audience.
Keslie and I were gazing at the steer through openings in the shed's eastern side (there was sort of a half wall there). It looked healthy enough to me — a little on the thin side, but nothing else noticeable.
Keslie to her dad Ted: "Are you going to take the ear tags off?"
Ted attempted to approach the animal. The steer eyed him warily, head lowered. Shortly, Ted was too close for the critter's comfort and the steer headed in the opposite direction -- toward the wall where Keslie and I were standing! He attempted to jump through one of the openings, got stuck, loosed himself in a jiffy, and was free. Free in the wide expanse of the D's property, free to roam where he might. To the north were Hwy 34 and cars. To the south were acres of newly raked/planted dirt. He headed for The Field.
I ran out there, circled around him, and discouraged his further southern progress. Keslie, Aaron, Josiah (their other boy, 11 years) and Rhonda eventually joined the effort.
"Are you having fun Claire?" asks Keslie.
"Oh yeah." I really was. She or Aaron asked me the same thing a little later. It was still true.
So we had 'im marginally contained, but how to get him back to the shed?
"We need some grain and a rope," I commented to the others. I don't really know what would have happened if I had gotten the rope on the steer. It might not have been very pretty (although the steer really wasn't an evil beast) -- but it was a thought.
The grain and rope didn't show up for a while. We got the steer back to the yard, spent some significant time trying to keep it from going on the highway, trying to get it into a machine shed, trying to entice it with feed...
Once we got it corralled with some largely unsupported fencing. Rhonda and I were holding the fencing up on the south side, the steer came over, sniffed it and ploughed over. I'll have to admit I didn't do my part keeping the fence tight -- I didn't think we could hold it in, anyway, and I guess I didn't want the steer excited by having to really push its way through.
After a time the beast took off west toward the Calapooia River, heading out over that part of the Field and eventually reaching the Underbrush, the Land of Stickery Tall Weeds, and the Pine Tree Farm. We were messing around in that general vicinity when Keslie drew my attention to a police car. As we found out later, Rhonda had called the fire station to see if their volunteers could come give us a hand and the policeman came out instead. I figured he might just shoot the animal and get it over with -- it was a pretty big risk having it loose so close to the highway. I worried slightly that he might aim for something white and get my headcovering instead.
Well, the police fellow didn't stick around very long, but a couple other fellows came to give us a hand (Scott Swartzentruber and his brother Ben). Ben headed throught the Underbrush and possibly the Spiderweb Forest (which kindly endowed me with its webbing) with us. We came across a small cabin with a stack of wood -- "I hope there's not some guy living there who'd come out and shoot me for trespassing. I have good reason to be here, really..."
At some point I was on the edge of a Land of Stickery Tall Weeds, and Scott was in the Lowlands with the calf, all by himself.
"Get down on the other side!" he yelled. And there I was, looking at this Very Dense patch of Very Tall weeds. I couldn't see the ground I'd have to step on if I did plow straight through.
"I don't know how to get down there!" said I. But there was a will and there was a way through the dense patch, and I found myself in the Lowlands.
The steer headed east, and I thought Scott said something about getting on the other side of a mini forest. "Um, it's really dense, and I don't know if I can get through." I headed up the rise toward the dense mini forest. It was navigable -- though I sported a lengthy tear in my dress by the time I reached the other side. (Torn dresses aside, plowing through underbrush and forests really is fun. It's a little bit reminiscent of playing Capture the Flag in our West Salem forest back in the good olds.)
Following the mini forest, there were more Lowlands, and then a hill that headed up toward the highway. It might have been then, might have been later on that the steer got dangerously close to the top of that hill and I yelled "You guys need to keep the cow from getting on the road!!!" If they had asked me if I was having fun then... well, I'd've had to say "No." Too much stress with real potential for disaster. It seemed like the cause was a goner -- but I guess the steer really didn't want to go on the highway, and it didn't. Whew!
We got the beast close to the shed, and closed in on it. But it broke away and ran west again. "It's heading out there and there needs to be someone between it and the road." So I started running, too, sort of parallel to the cow on the north side.
"Claire, stop running!!"
I guess it was sort of dumb -- I was just exciting the cow further, making it run farther. But I didn't want it going way far away again.
More floundering around in the brush -- and maybe that was the time the cow got really close to the road.
We got the cow back in the field, and closed in, forcing it toward the shed.
Claire, to Keslie and Josiah: "I think we need to just shoot it. We're not going to get it in. Maybe call animal control and see if they can tranquilize it." And there I was, being one of those awful pessimistic adults that steal hope from children. Ugh.
Hey, well, I was proven wrong. They enclosed it with fencing, and it walked inside the building with little ado. Bravo!
"Claire, is our cow healthy?" asked Aaron.
"Um, yeah, I'd have to say so," I stated with a laugh.
It was about 8:30. We had been chasing the steer for 1.5 to 2 hours.
"So, Claire, what was the most fun part of the evening?" Aaron asked after supper.
"Chasing the cow."
You betcha.
posted by Claire at 05:46
1 Comments:
Quite the adventure, Claire!
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