Triple Threat Thursday

He was always Mr. Doug to me. And before Thursday's ranch trip gets retold, I want to remember a this man. His name Douglas Franklin. Below is the obituary.

Douglas Franklin Passed Away Sunday, May 31, 2009.

It's a kind re-telling of Mr. Doug's service in the army, his church and his community. But, it left out a very important detail. Doug Franklin worked at the O'Brien Ranch for many years. And when I say worked, I mean it. I always new him as an elderly man, but that didn't stop him from going to work cattle, working gates and getting in the crowd pen. In fact, he conveniently misinformed us of his age a couple of times just so he wouldn't be told to get out of there. Or worse, to stay at the pens.

There are many stories about this man, but the best one I heard, was short and it didn't even happen until June 4. That's right, yesterday.

A pastor for his church stood and with the fervor that can only come from within a black southern baptist congregation, he said, "You all can cry if you want to... But you ain't cryin' for Doug. You cryin' for yourself. 'Cause Doug's in heaven."

And so he is.

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Now, about that Thursday trip south. What a day. After getting everybody fed, I hooked up the Big Tex and off we went. South bound I-37 without horses for the first time in quite a long time. See, some how my Dad's Big Tex flatbed trailer found it's way to my house. Marvin Tavarez, a good friend of mine and agent for the Horse Insurance Company we use, borrowed the trailer to haul a 100 or so bales of that hay we unloaded on Mr. Miyagi Thursday back to his house. He gave Morgan a ballpark time for when he'd have the trailer back, but Dad told him he could just drop it at my house to save him a trip. No problem.

So I call Dad just before 8:00 am to ask if he wants his trailer back at the Murphy or over at the main pens. The Murphy. I pulled in and dropped it off and headed over to the morning meeting.

The morning meeting isn't a meeting at all but it is where an unbelievable amount of scheduling goes down. Plans aren't made ahead of time down there very often. Not because they aren't planners, but because if a windmill breaks, cows get out, someone else's cattle get on your place, gaps are down, etc. the plan changes anyway. Well, today was one of those days that would have changed plans. Mr. Douglas Franklin had passed away and most were headed to the early afternoon funeral.

Morgan and I caught up some of the elder green geldings I re-started a couple of weeks ago. Two had already been picked up, but a replacement gelding that fit the mold (older and still green) had been moved from the rope horse trap to this teach-them-a-weeks-worth-in-a-day group.

It's a great challenge since you have to push the limits of what you can show one when you can only ride them once a week. However, these horses are mature enough to handle much more pressure than a two-year-old and they are progressing very quickly. It's alot of fun.

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Speaking of fun - After the geldings were ridden I went to get my truck over at Mom and Dad's and guess who is there.

Taylor, Trinity and Taryn.

My nieces were ready to ride. So that's what we did. The rest of the afternoon was pure goodness. Here's a taste.

First, we had to go see some of the horses:





Then, it was time to mount up.





Warm-up time didn't last long.





It was a hot day so we had to take a time-out every now and then.

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All of this was fun, but there was one event that unfolded both beautifully and quite comically this Thursday. It's the perfect way to remember that preparation is important. And sometimes, even though one may be a wonderful, positive leader, our follower may loose the way. We have to keep a smile on our face and trust in our walk. And remember that sometimes you'll need more than your own strength to get the job done.

The Wedge: A Thursday story on Friday.

As South Texas began warming up under the morning sun, the hands were making there rounds feeding. Four geldings, all four years old, are part of the routine. They waited impatiently as the feed truck made it to their corner of the corrals. They had no idea that today was going to be a little different.

Not long ago they were running at the Yenger like wild horses. And had been for almost a year and a half. Morgan picked them up and had worked them on the ground a bit and today they would get ridden. They're a nice group of horses and it's hard to believe that they slipped through the cracks. It was time to find out if they remembered anything at all from their less-than-thirty-days training they received almost two years ago. Age and so much more strength can often leave you with quite a different horse than what they were when they were started.

The bay was first. With jobs like this, I just start over. I have confidence that Morgan prepared them very well, but I didn't have the ability to see it happen. Starting over lets me get familiar with the horse as I go in order to have as few surprises as possible. I was on the bay in less than ten minutes. Then saddled him up and eased him around the round pen. No problem. The ride went the same. I was excited. The bay will be pretty nice.

On to the pale gray. In an effort to keep this short, let's just say that he did well also. In fact, this gray ended up being my favorite. On to the darker gray. The best looking gelding in the bunch did not come back from his long break like the other two. No problems other than laziness, but he just wasn't in the same class as the others on this day-one-after-two-years.

That leads me to our final horse and the lesson teacher for me today. He was bay roan and everyone's pic really. Dick and Morgan both thought he'd do the best. Well, he did . . . for a while. He kicked up just a bit when he loped off the first time but I didn't worry about it. Like I said, it had been a long time. Then we went throught the typical drill. He did well. Time to quit. Four for four. I was happy with this set. But, he wouldn't stand to dismount. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and offered him two more chances. Same results. So, off we went.

He wanted to move out so we moved out. And about that second time around he hopped up again. What?!?! He should be over this I thought. And if that's all he's got, I'll let him have it if he humps again. Well he did. I gave it to him. And then he gave it to me. That wasn't all he had. The next thing I knew, I'm looking for my horse.

That's what over-confidence gets you. I was feeling pretty good, had a good feel for the roan's movement and was going to wear him out if he wanted to pitch. I never saw him coming. I had let my guard down. If he had done the same thing fifteen minutes earlier, we would not have had any problems. But, now I was proud. I had settled in and could "do no wrong".

Such is life. That over-confidence is a wedge that pushes it's way into the things we are best at. And Satan himself can't stand that open door. He slips right in. We all look for him at the bar, in prison. Scams, thievery, murder, whatever. The funny thing is, he doesn't even have to try at those places. That wedge is what he enjoys. His creativity gets put to work in our lives in the places we think we're the strongest. Our strong marriage, bible study, even church. Seriously, how many damaging conversations are a result from something that has to do with church. ALOT.

We can't get to proud of ourselves and let our guard down. We might end up brushing the dust off and having some humble pie.

Philosophical Thursday

Et tu Thursday?

Yesterday was a long one. Not because of work, or hours (although 5:45 am to midnight makes for a long day) but because it deceived me. Thursdays have a purpose. Cattle work, horse training, ranch work, selling horses, etc. Yesterday was no exception. The daily morning feeding rounds, fixing a water trough on the south end of the Bunny Heard pasture, and re-starting a group of 4-year old geldings were scheduled for the morning. The afternoon was reserved for showing some horses to a couple of prospective buyers.

Well, the scheduled-to-arrive-after-lunch prospective buyers pulled in around 10:00am. The rest of the story boils down to this - this Thursday was cooked. Shot. Wasted. Whatever.

The fact that the new crop of geldings didn't get worked coupled with the fact that I didn't rope that well frustrated me to no end. But the kicker was when our plan changers, who were trying a head horse decided that it wasn't a good fit without ever heading a steer.

Now this Thursday was really a waste.

Fastforward to the early evening. Morgan was talking about a black horse that Matt Pettrus wanted to try and Dick was adding details about a horse he had with the same history.

They had both been hooked. BAD.

Now these horses spook at everything. Just taking the head rope off of the steer after a run was a major undertaking for a while. When Matt called Morgan about the black horse we call Black Magic, it went something like this.

"Hey Morgan. I'd like to come try that black horse I talked to James about, " Matt said after the usual damn-I-wish-it-would-rain-pleasantries that everyone exchanges in South Texas.

"I tell you what. You come pick that black horse up and take him to your house and you can do whatever you want with him, " came Dad's reply. "You need to know what he is."

"Well, will he go in the box?" Matt asked.

"Yea."

"Well, is he nervous in there?"

"Nope. He's pretty nice in the box. Scores nice, Matt," Morgan siad.

"Well what the hell is wrong with him?" Matt finally asked, a bit bewildered.

"You just come pick him up, " Morgan told him.

"I will, Morgan. I always liked the looks of that horse," Matt said.

And so it went for a while as Dick and Dad recounted stories about the horses they've ridden that had been hooked in the pasture. They all seemed to have that same characteristic. They trusted nothing. They thought anything, anytime could be the next thing that hooked 'em.

Earlier that afternoon, in my frustration, I quite vocally let my uncles and Dad know about my unsatisfactory opinion regarding the day. But, these stories taught me something. I can't let one situation cause me to think that every single similar situation could be the next thing that "hooks me". Otherwise, I'll go through life 'spooked' and not being able to accomplish anything.

Think about the thick brush in your life, what may lie around the corner that your worried about and can't see. Then stop. Stop thinking about it. 'Cause you can't do anything about it. Listen to Him. And plow through that brush. That's the only way you're ever going to get anywhere.

Today's readings talks about Ananias. Talk about being spooked. He had to go talk to the guy who was killing all the Christians. Wow.

And since he did. We have Paul. Don't be spooked. You may be the next instrument of His.

Solemn Thursday

Two eighteen wheelers are neck and neck, an oversized load dragging the blades to one of T. Boone Pickens wind energy mills, mobile home after mobile home, even a honda civic with a brush guard . . . all going at least 85 mph. West Texas traffic is a little different than any where else in the state. It's incessant.

But, just north east of exit 400 time stood still for a generous gathering of quiet country folk dressed in black. Some were overwhelmed by their loss, some just reminded of what's in store for them, but all of them struck by the hope they have in Christ. After all, it's only a matter of time.

It was a day to remember Marvin F. Shurley. Pastor Lewis Allen, of Sonora, delivered a short graveside remembrance since we had all just come from the service in town. It was difficult to hear as car, truck and motorcycle after car, truck and motorcycle kept barreling down I-10 topping 90 mph. But then we bowed our heads for the final prayer.

Traffic stopped. It was awe inspiring to say the least. As Pastor Lewis spoke for all of us as we lifted our friend to Our Lord, there wasn't a car in sight. Silence. Then a breeze drifted through the gravestones and cowboy hats to rattle the leaves as Lewis got things wrapped up for ol' Marvin. And just as he did wrap it up in Our Lord's precious name, so did the silence wrap up and roaring highway traffic commence.

No one else spoke of it, but surely there were more who noticed. It was God's moment of silence. And rightly so. Mr. Shurley was a unique man. Good. Diligent. Determined. Entrepreneurial and Kind. Read the obituary if you'd like to know more about Marvin.

Unfortunately, you won't get the whole story. I'm not sure it could be told. As I stood and listened to Louis Balas tell Pastor Allen how well he did the service and that Marvin would have appreciated it, I think Pastor Allen said it best.

"Well, I am certainly honored to have the respect of someone like Marvin, " he said.

I wish I had the benefit of knowing him better, but there are two things I'll never forget. His two-door Cadillac and an evening I spent with him on a back porch in Fredericksburg, Texas. I had known him as a rancher and pioneer in the meat goat industry until that night. After that I thought, hell he's a philosopher and politician wrangler. We discussed everything from the types of people it takes to stick with ranching horses, cattle, goats, sheep or whatever all the way to motivating politicians in Washington, D.C. to take actions that benefit the agricultural industry here in Texas that Marvin evidently felt responsible for.

Many of us that are involved in ag owe Mr. Shurley a thank you and don't even know it. But don't worry, he wouldn't hold it against you. He lead a rough life. Very rough. Right until its end. And you'd be hard pressed to catch him without a smile on his face and one hellofa conversation in his mind.

Thanks for turning down the volume today, Lord so we could have a chance to say goodbye.

Usually I head to the ranch on Thursdays. Here are some of those stories:

• Cowboy Consistancy in South Texas - Part 1


• Working Cattle and Riding Colts: Thursday Reality Check


• Calf Roping - Rough Trail Drives - And Family

It Was Lost, But Now Is Found

The camera is back! Well, what was once a camera is back. It was found in the middle of the pasture, smashed. The memory card from within the case was able to be salvaged. Here are some of the pics from a Thursday when we branded some replacement heifers.

Branding Cattle at the O'Brien Ranch


The Man In Charge: J.M. O'Brien

J.M. oversees everything. Usually from his trusty Chevrolet.

Morgan O'Brien

Here, Morgan is branding a replacement heifer. She'll get dewormed by Kelley, vaccinated by Doc, tattooed by the vet tech and then out the front of the shoot she'll go.

I'm getting hooked on a little in the crowd pen and Kelley thinks it's funny.

One of these heifers got to raking around on me in the crowd pen while I was waiting to send the next bunch through and Kelley thought is was alot funnier than I did.

So, of course Mick has to wave and tell me to take his picture.

There's always comedic relief when working at the O'Brien Ranch. I'm trying to get myself out of a bind and Mick is hollering for me to take his picture. Of course, if I was wanting to take his picture for real, he'd be running like I had the plague. Gotta love Mick and Dick.

Finally get away from her. Didn't even know this picture got taken until today.


OK, she's leaving, got to get back to work.


Morgan O'Brien branding.


The O'Brien Ranch cattle brand.

Cattle theft is on the rise in Texas and this is one of the best deterents. Read more at the Houston Chronicle...

Mick and Dick O'Brien

THE BEST cowboy team I have ever seen. Yes, they're full of . . . um yea that. Yes, they like to give you a hard time. They usually can make up words to a song that is surprisingly good while they do whatever it is they are doing. And guess what, you will be in the song and probably won't be thrilled about what you are doing according to their Kristofferson-like verses. But, they can get it done. You name it. It gets done. Quick. Right. Every time.

Doctor Williams

Doc Williams headed to vaccinate the next one.

Kelley O'Brien

Kelley O'Brien deworming another heifer.

Dick O'Brien

Dick O'Brien holding a heifer for the vet tech. She'll give her a tattoo ID in the ear.

Cowboy in the Smoke

Branding iron smoke is a great filter for photography. This is Dick about to open the front gate for this set of heifers to go get with the rest of those that have been worked.

Jesse Gomez

Jesse opens the squeeze shoot after each set of heifers have been branded, dewormed, vaccinated and tattooed.

Felix and JB

Felix (left) and JB immobilize each set of heifers by closing the squeeze shoot and holding it until the crew is finished.

Getting everything done on eighty head of replacements takes some time. This crew has been doing it for quite some time though and we wrap it up pretty quick. For a run down on what's going on in some of these pics, go here to read about a branding day.

Not Thursday

Luke was riding around pretty well and I had just transitioned him to a walk after guiding a while at a lope when the phone rang. It was John. My older brother lives just south of me about 130 miles and I don't get to see him, or his family, nearly as often as I'd like. Time is a precious commodity when you are trying to go through ten head after lunch everyday so the phone usually goes unanswered until after dark. However, the fact that Luke deserved a quick break coupled with my brother being the caller resulted in me whipping open my still beloved tough phone.

Jesse Howell needed a horse. He had made arrangements with John prior to our visit, but John had just found out that he wasn't going to be able to pull away from work in order to meet Mr. Howell at the ranch. Well, my brother has an amazing ability to influence people and I'm no exception. The next thing I was doing was thanking him for the chance to head south and show Jesse Howell my brother's mare. This reads a bit like my brother is a silver tounge professional persuader in it for his own benefit. I assure you he is not. He's good because he's genuine. He'd do it for me in a heart-beat. And he asked me to take along an additional colt for Mr. Howell to look at that I felt would fit his needs and budget.

So Tuesday morning rolls around and after getting everyone fed four lucky prospects won a free trip southward bound to Quincy. Tuseday's are pretty nice down there. Mostly maintenance days at the beginning of the week. Your looking at projects like gate hanging, water checking, feeding, checking foaling mares, etc. It's a steady stream of effort, but nothing that will get you hooked off the fence or round housed into the roundpen floor.

The horse demo went great. John's mare looked great, but Mr. Howell took a fancy to the little sorrel gelding I took down there. He was a double-bred Gay Bar King two-year-old that had just started to make a move. By that I mean he was getting comfortable with the maneuvers he was being taught and starting to try a little harder. Gaining confidence. Jesse loaded him up and off they went. And just like that, I was 1 head lighter for Wednesday. The Scholl's will be excited. The little gelding belonged to them and they've recently had a stroke of bad luck with the horse deal. This lick was just what they needed.

Don Lotspieche was at the ranch. For those of you who know Don, you're already laughing. For those of you who don't, let me try to shed some light on this stay-put-drifter. Don's child-like wisdom will astound you with it's insight while his cow-hand-gone-hippie facade will mesmorize you into just staring at him wondering what the hell he's gonna come up with next.

Well he came up with plenty. He took John's mare for a ride after Mr. Howell headed back to Premont. Don started that mare and wanted to get a couple of last rides in before calling the job done I guess. So he heads up the hill.

There aren't many hills in South Texas. There is one on our place though. Or so that's what we call it. It's in the same pasture that we keep the roping steers in and it's a great place to take a colt to just push cattle around and get them comfortable doing "real work". When Don got back we had an interesting conversation.

"Hey James, what about that Border Collie? He worked his ass off," he half hollered at me across the pens.

I stepped that way and he continued.

"I was loping that mare down that north fence and she was doing real good. That little charolais-cross-lookin bull that always stays off to himself was out there layin down. We rode up on him and that mare shied from 'im a bit so I walked her back up there and made her stay put. When he got up, I tracked him ALL OVER that place until he had just about had it. He finally turned around like he was wantin' to fight. That damn mare pinned her ears and cowwed down on him. I was real proud of her. She's gonna be a nice mare. That yella gyp and collie dog were lettin that sucker have it the whole time."

"Well I really like hearin that about that mare," I said.

"Yep, that's a nice dog," Don said as he was noddin his head and walkin towards the saddle house.

Here is where most people would think... "What the hell?" ;)

But I know Don. I was once the young fella who would listen to the dogs when we were in the brush and tell him which way the cattle were. Then, ride like crazy trying to keep up. I've seen and heard about him doing things for people that few would bother doing. He's a good man. And having a conversation with him at the ranch is most definitely worth a trip south. Well, if you can call it a conversation.

As in our little conversation today, Don knows where he's headed in life. We might not know where Don's headed, but Don knows. Straight ahead. What you see is what you get. The ability to disregard other's opinions is often frowned upon and sought after by the same individuals. We could all use a lesson in turning loose. Gather your thoughts and realize who it is that you are. Then stand for something. You'll piss some people off. But . . . if you really master the Don way of life.

You won't care.

Thursday's: Shakey Start - Solid Finish

4:30 - Tweety is GOING TO TOWN right outside the bedroom door that leads to our back yard. He must have been on my frequency though due to the steady breathing of my lovely bride. She lay at peace as my subtle little reminder from Him that my alarm was about to blast us to reality was being whistled just outside.

Still the alarm caught me laying there when 5:00 rolled around and the day was rolling.

The truck and trailer were waiting for me right where I had hooked up last night. So, after everything in the barn and outside stalls were fed, it was time to go get my roping calves. Trailers are not the most fun to back in the dark. Especially without trailer lights. Those of you who know me know that this is no surprise. Anyway, no mishaps this morning thank goodness. One stronger black calf had to stay for a second session of being a roping calve but the other santa gertrudis calves were loaded on the trailer and I was headed for Quincy.

Branding some yearling fillies was to compose most of the day today, but the morning started off with a bit of worry. My Grandfather, John Morgan O'Brien, also known as J.M. by some, Pop by even fewer, and PoPo to me, had been sick. We got an early call while feeding requesting us to come by the main house and see PoPo.

I was worried. Dad, however, knew what this meant. It was time to convince a man who'd seen 83 years of South Texas ranch life and still works the crowd pen that he needed to go to the doctor. And Mary Kathryn was drafting some help.

What ensued I can only describe as Love. This is an Irish Catholic family. So when I say we can get worked up, I mean we can get WORKED UP. ;)

But, today was not one of those days. No convincing. No persuasion. Nothing. They just cared. We are blessed to have a close family friend that is a Doc in Victoria. We visited with J.M. a while and then my uncles, Mick and Dick gave him a call. The normal pleasantries followed and then a couple of quick questions about PoPo. Dad lined up a visit with the physician in the nearest town and that was it. A couple of them loaded up with John Morgan and off they went.

We stayed. Foaling mares still have to be fed by somebody. And the two's can't ride themselves. The branding, though, was off.

The day wasn't empty though. Any rancher knows that being bored, unfortunately, is not ever a problem. You adapt, change plans and accomplish new things. Morgan and I sorted a group of calves at the Murphy and dropped off the old set from my house. The Murphy also had a dozer operator that we needed to check on.

A group of three twos were caught up this morning and so they got worked this afternoon as well. There's a black in particular that I'm very excited about. Nice colt.

Well, PoPo got his report and it was a good one. We spent most of the morning and some of the afternoon visiting with him. After we wrapped the twos and I got loaded up to head north, we stopped back by the house. My time with him today was a great chance for a couple of stories. So here they are:
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We were chatting about pasture work making for nicer horses down the road when an event my grandfather had attended, no doubt as a careless youngster, made itself present at the forefront of his mind.

Me and Richard Walker went to a ropin one time out in the middle of the pasture. Great big arena. And there wasn't a fence on one side. The momma cows were over there. So they pulled the calves that day. Penned them and then turned 'em out headed straight back for momma's milk.

Well we had our calf horses there but they couldn't catch 'em fast enough to do any good. Needless to say, nobody else was catchin' 'em either.

Oh and Chic Alexander was with us too. Man, he could tie one faster than anybody I knew. That was if he could catch one though. Tied good, but didn't catch many.

Well Richard and this fella from whoever's place that was were buddies. And that friend of Richard's had a race horse. So Richard talked him into lettin us borrow him.

"I never have roped on him, " he said.

Hell, we didn't care. We just needed to get close fast. That's it.

And you know we backed that runner into the box blind folded. And when we nodded and took that blindfold off, you had better been screwed down. That booger was floatin.

We just had a ring snaffle on him and herded him by those calves. He never even saw 'em. And wouldn't you know it. We won 1st, 2nd and 3rd on that thang that day.

Me and Chic and Richard. That Richard was a hellofa individual.

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We were sitting there with old westerns playin on a tv that was probably made the same year that movie we were watchin was made when some poor man on the tv headed out into the rain horseback.

We haven't had any good rain in a while so the comic relief and back-handed comments were flowin free when Dad remarked about how miserable that must be.

"I've been there, " Popo remarked but didn't sit up like he usually does before a story. Almost like he was feelin what he was talking about.

We were drivin a set to the Greeter, when I was just a little fella, comin from the Sarco. . .

That's a 20 mile clip for those not familiar with the area. We don't make drives like that anymore. I'm not sure if anyone does.

And we had one boil up over us and go to rainin. It hadn't been going too long and lightning struck not to far from the herd throwing dirt WAY yonder into the air. Haven't seen anything like it untill then. And hadn't since.

You know there was something else I saw on that drive, too. Those sparks dancin on the tips of those cattle's horns. not like the movies glowing and such, but dancing. Same as it does in the clouds, but from steer to steer. Damndest thang I ever saw.

We were out on that prairie country so it wasn't like we were going to go anywhere or get out of it. Probably a good thing with the way that lightin was hittin. A tree bustin or fallin could of killed somebody.

Anyhow, we kept a ridin. Didn't have much choice. Directly one of the hands come ridin up to me and says, "little boss, you need to climb down from that horse and unsaddle him. Cover yourself with that blanket 'cause we about to get some hail."

And damned if we didn't. Not even five minutes after he told me that we got the hell beat out of us. I'll never forget that trip. I don't know how he knew that about that hail.

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Well, hopefully you got this far. If you didn't, I understand. Since you did, I'm going to push my luck. ;)

Please say a quick prayer for all those who have seen the ways of life and freedom change before their eyes. Pray that we can adapt, overcome and persevere just as they did. Ask that they be given the strength and wisdom to continue guiding us through times that hopefully will mold us into the people that they already are.

A little bit of hail never hurt anybody.

Over on the Country Living group on Facebook I posted a discussion wanting to know what everyone did on rainy days that they don't normally do. It's usually a great time for me to get tack oiled up and get some organization done in the barn. Nowadays, there's something else. I take pictures and post them on SpiritualHorseman.com ;)

There weren't any cattle trapped down south so I got to stay home today.

And I'm glad I did. We were blessed with a great rain today in the San Antonio, TX area. And hail came with it.

Everybody under the barn.

There's a group of horses here that are not even used to rain, much less hail. It's interesting to see how they handle new experiences.

Mellow Yellow is just that. He acts like he knows what's going on, but it hasn't stirred him up too much. Anticipated awareness.

Bugsy and Sugar are bouncin' off of the walls. They are more along the lines of, "I gotta get outta here. I gotta get outta here." Fear.

Cuervo didn't mind the rain much. Rounded back, feet close together withdrawn underneath himself, ears back and head down . . . no worries. Then the hail came. He started out like Mellow Yellow by just kind of becoming aware. Then he eased off to the other side of the large round pen where he stays. Stopped and waited. Then off to another spot and stopped and waited. "Is it over here, how about over here, and here-is it hailing over here?" is what it seemed he was thinking. Never still for very long. Nervous.

Sway, an older reiner we have just turned her rear to that north wind and balled up. She has been in hail before. And she handled it the same way then. Irritated, but Care free.

Buck, another one of the two's just stood there. Almost as if it were still a bright and sunny day. I'm not even sure if he knew it was hailing ;) Clueless.

When the hail storms of life rain down on your plans, how do you handle it? Do you dart from here to there looking for the quick solution? Do you stick your head in the sand and pretend it's not happening? Do you even know that it's happening? (there's a good post here)

Or, do you know what you need to do, adapt, persevere and move on?

Thursday Reality Check: Working Cattle and Riding Colts

Well, I thought that I was done with the jackets and vests till next year until about half way through feeding this morning. It was 57 degress.

What!?!

That's cold.

It was humid.

There was a heavy fog.

Fine I hate the cold. Or cool, or whatever. Anyway, I got my vest, everybody got fed and I started loading the youngsters: One 'four' I can rope on that I call Bugsy, one 'three' I just started calling Luke and three two-year-olds, or 'twos'. Only one has earned a name. We call him Mellow Yellow. After a quick stop through the house to kiss my lovely bride and grab a fresh taco, I headed south. Like a freight train through it's tunnel of fog we rolled through the towns barely able to see the blurry greens and yellows till we were through 'em or the reds till we were to 'em. It was slow goin the whole way.

I pulled into the house a little after eight. Morgan had already headed over to the pens so I went to meet him. Just as I pulled up I could see a little brehmer heifer get sorted through a gate inside the pens and head into the fog. Then I saw Mick. Crap I'm late. About that time I heard the fire start up. These lady's were gonna get some hot iron on there butts today. I wasn't too late 'cause Doc Williams wasn't there yet and nobody had saddled up just yet either. They must have been sorting them just to get ready to start moving them through the pens.

Dad picked out a little Poco Bueno bred grullo mare and asked me to ride Mr. Koehler's bay mare, Lilly. She is in the it's-time-to-grow-up part of her life so she gets used pretty regular. Mick was on a little sorrel mare he just started team roping on and Dick was on Tommy Boy, a younger sorrel gelding that he has riding around pretty nice.

Just then it hit me. We're not going to get to rope today.

Oh well. It was a fine run of Thursday's for sure. So Jesse, Felix and Tony were ready and waiting. Kelley had his grease and pour-on de-wormer like Doc Freakin Holiday. Just say when baby. Mick looked like he was at the bar chillin even though he was about to have to get the heads of every heifer that came through there so Dick could get them steady for the tattoos and bangs vaccination tags. Oh, and there is no head gate. One big squeeze shoot. Old school. That's the way we do it down here. For all it's glory...and faults, that's just the way we do it. Anyway, Doc was ready so I started sending them through.

It's really something to see I bet. From a distance. The group, like a machine, just works. Everybody has a job. They execute and the machine keeps running. Anybody faulters and the thing comes to a screeching hault. Or somebody gets hooked. That's the thing about these first crosses. They make good cows in this rough country, but lets just say I'm a hell-of-a-lot more sore this time than I was when we ran all those blacks and black baldies through a couple of weeks ago. Those tiger-stripes can get kind of rough with the personell. ;) But when everybody's percolating, it goes pretty smooth. We're united in a way.

Something else that makes me feel tied to every rancher that's ever tried to make a living with horses or cattle is that smell. To stand in that crowd pen somewhere between Beeville and Refugio with hot branding irons sending smoke to join that heavy fog laying on us really takes me back. I don't know where, but I'm there often. It's a lonely place, but it's where I belong.

We wound up things around lunch time, but not after needing to rope one that slipped through the cracks. Mick pushed them out of the corner and I peeled them off the fence. As they headed toward the center of the large pens, Morgan eased into the herd and one swing later it was over. She never saw it coming. He steered her out into the open and Dick immediately had another rope on her feet. I went to her and down she went. Doc and his vet tech took care of her right there. The hands brought the fire and one O-B and one 8 later, she was off with the rest of the bunch.

After lunch we delivered some cattle to the auction barn and I wrapped up the day riding colts. Between the trip to the barn and my riding, we moved some round bales for cattle over at the Murphy and fed alfalfa to the broodmares. What a site. Babies have been hitting the ground for a couple of weeks now. The mares are pulled down a little bit since we haven't been getting any rain, but the foals are still looking great. As soon as I get a new camera I'll post pics. Today would have been a good picture day. Sorry about that. I'm going to wind this up since it's getting a little long-winded, but I wanted to be sure to mention the foals.

Everything is just starting to green up a little. The babies are coming and the replacements are getting branded and turned out. It's new beginnings everywhere. It's never to late to start over. It's never to early to start over. If you think you're headed the wrong way, start fresh. Now's the time.

Do you know Lazarus? Are you him?

I didn't make it to the ranch today. I'll be down there this weekend for Refugio's Open Pro Rodeo and I don't think that much was planned for today anyway. I hope. So I have had a chance to enjoy a Thursday at home. And it rained. Make no mistake, I'm not complaining, I'm rejoicing. It would have stunk if I had driven down to the ranch and missed getting to watch it rain. They didn't get any moisture. Hopefully there's still a chance because it's dry down there. None of this really has anything to do with what I want to share today, but I don't have a ranch story today and that's why.

Today's Gospel reading comes from Luke and it's the one about Lazarus. I know that the focus within this story is supposed to be on the rich man's cold heart and indifference. However, I'd like to know more about this cat Lazarus. There are so many people in today's world that sit around and do nothing while they complain about having it so bad. Don't get me wrong, it's our job to look after the lowly in this world. I'm not in any way defending the rich man in the story. Burn buddy. That's all I have for you. But, isn't there always somebody out there that is less fortunate than you are? And isn't there also somebody out there who is more fortunate than you are? Regardless of how wealthy or despondant you may be, there's always someone worse off and someone better off.

I say pull your self pittying butt off the ground Lazarus. Somebody out there needs you. They need your story. They need your Love. Who knows, they may just need your company. I have a feeling that there are plenty of people out there right now that feel more like Lazarus than the rich man. Well, the only way it's going to get any better is if you make it better. Take action today.

Romans 12:2 says, "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect."

Are you wondering why the world has got you down? Why doesn't the rich man stop to help you out? Change starts with you. Get with it.

And it's Thursday Again

Oh man, God saw me coming this morning. I think I have mentioned how much I enjoy the changing sky on here before. Especially weather changes, but sunrise/sunset too. So, yesterday morning not even ten or so minutes after sunrise. This is what I see.

Not this exactly, since I still haven't found my camera. Going to buy a new one soon though, so stay tuned. Anyway, it was as close to this as you can get. The bottom half of the burning sun pushed through the base of the cloud line in a brilliant red and scattered rays straight up and out from the clouds in all directions. It was amazing. And just south of Pleasanton.

Then, in Georgewest it happened again. Not quite as burning red hot, but more rays. They were everywhere. I just broke into a huge smile and said a quiet thank you. It was going to be a great day.

That wasn't even the end of it. OK, I know what your thinking, this kook is making this up now, but I wouldn't have any reason to do that. I mean, I'm writing for maybe my wife, mother and probably two other people here. Three max. ;)

Anyway, pulling into Beeville with Mellow Yellow, Cool Hand Luke and Bugsy in tow, the cloudy sky is just blown apart by the sun. And as I pull by the old Mighty Might on 59 it's as bright as I can stand it. Then it hit me. I'm in one of the rays. It's one of those things where you can't really tell, but you know by looking around you that the sun is only hitting the ground in a select few places. So if you were a good ways off looking toward me, there would be my deer dented chevy dually, aluminum gooseneck cattle trailer and three of the best colts in South Texas cruisin through Our Lord's spotlight. I know it sounds cheesy, but it was freakin awesome.

Well, then we moved telephone poles all morning. Back to reality. The power, or phone, or some company came through the ranch pulling new cable and putting new poles into the ground and guess who got to move all of the old ones. Yours truly and my Dad, Morgan. One blue New Holland Tractor, one round bale trailer and four hours later we were done. Piece of cake.

Now it's 2:30 ish and the county roping is this weekend. That can only mean one thing. We rope. That's three weeks in a row I got to come down here and rope. This is just getting ridiculous. Too much fun. My brother John came up so he and both my uncles and my dad all roped. That is what life's about. I can't imagine a better way to spend an afternoon. Again, wish I had the camera. This is running a little long anyway so maybe it's for the best.

I guess if there's anything to be pulled from this beautiful day, it's that we need to slow down enough to realize when we are having a beautiful day. Every one of them is a gifted hundred dollar bill. Spend it slowly. And spend it with the right people.

Trust (and Thursdays)

Another georgous Thursday has blown by. Late Wednesday evening after I got the horses rode and roped some calves, I sorted out the yearling heifers and loaded them in the trailer to deliver them back to the ranch. They were here to help finish the ranch horses I had showing in the Ranch Horse competition at San Antonio. I really don't have room for them here, so it's time for them to go back to the ranch.

Having loaded them the night before gave me a chance to take my time this morning. For some reason it seemed like the stars were shining a little brighter. There's a northern pushing through on Saturday, so maybe the front of it is clearing out the air a bit. Who knows. The point is that it was a beautiful morning. I fed the horses and loaded my right hand man Gus. Then after kissing my bride goodbye, loaded two calf roping horses and headed south.

Today was another one of those great Thursdays. We fed this morning and then I rode a couple three year olds. Two fillies. One will hopefully be headed to NCHA Cutting Hall of Famer Rusty Carroll and the other to NRCHA World's Greatest Horseman winner, Chris Littlefield. Time will tell, but they are both capable of going bigtime in my opinion.

After that Morgan asked me to put the first ride on a two that he just got up. He was almost no effort at all. One little hump during the first trot out and smooth sailing after that. He'll be fun.

After lunch we went to the Mulas to check water and then it was calf roping time. Mr. Greeson's son, Parke, has a highschool rodeo this weekend and wanted me to tune Roany up for him a little. Roany is the Reserve World Champion Calf Roping horse Dad sold to Mr. Greeson. He's pictured at the top of this post competing in Houston. Anyway, Morgan came with me to turn out, but more importantly, to help Parke with his roping. He was already roping better than the last time we went over there. I can get Roany jamming, no problem, but I can't teach him to throw the rope. ;) Parke has to do that part. And Dad is so much better at watching someone and communicating the changes they need to make in order to rope better.

My concentration is almost always within the horses. They usually teach me more than I teach them and today was no different. Ice Man, a grey stud of my grandfather's, had his first experience of me leaving him yesterday. Plenty went into reaching that day, but yesterday was the first time I roped, stepped off and left him to go tie the calf, and expected him to do his job on his own. So today I had planned to get off the gas a little and let him run a couple of breakaway calves and call it a day. After the second one, my breakaway sure enough broke away. The plastic loop broke clean into two pieces. I had a choice. Quit Ice Man, or rig him up for tie down.

Dad hadn't seen him go yet, so I decided to tie at least one down on him at this new place to see how he'd do. I got off the left and he did OK. So I scored one. Then on the second one, he hunted him hard from the start, stopped hard, so I stepped off the right and left him. He pulled great and I was so pleased with him.

Long story short, Joe, the other calf horse I took who his Roany's younger brother worked fantastic. It's hard to quit those kind because they're so much fun to rope on.

So we headed back to the ranch.

"Well, what'd you think?" I just had to ask Morgan on the way back. He hadn't said much.

He half grinned and said, "Hell I was kind of surprised. He looked good."

I feined disbelief and we had a good time with it. Truth is I was pretty damn surprised myself. That was alot to ask a horse. New place. New task. High pressure. But here's the deal. We, me and Ice Man, have LOTS of hard days behind us. There was so much preparation behind those two runs. I should have been confident in his ability and I wasn't. Hopeful would be more descriptive. Same with Joe and he's way further along than Ice Man.

So what I wanted to share today, other than a Thursday story that sounds more like vacation than work to me, is the concept of trust. Relationship trust. Not the romantic kind, but trust nonetheless. Everybody has their version of cold windy riding days. Hot sweaty roping days. Trials and tribulations that happen on your way to an accomplishment. Most of the people in your life aren't there for those hard days. They only show up for the performance. They don't see the hard part. And so you (and I) worry. Somwhere in me I knew Ice Man would do just fine or else I wouldn't have rigged him up in the first place. That's the trust I'm talking about. For me, though, it needs to be more prominant. I suspect it's the same for you.

So trust in God's ability to work through you. And in the abilities that He has given to you. And in the horses (or people) He has entrusted unto you. Be great. Sometimes our worst fear is not in being a failure, but in becoming something great.

Thursdays, Thursdays

What a great day!

I knew before I headed south this morning that today would be fun. Morgan let me know that we were bleeding mares this afternoon and that that was the only thing planned. So what did I do?

Well, naturally I called a good friend of mine, Shannon DeLaunne, and we stuffed a Gooseneck full of horses and rolled south. After sorting a set of shippers that Dad had penned already we headed for the arena. Nothing like a cool, breezy South Texas team roping session before lunch.

We had horses tied everywhere. They surrounded us. Plenty of steers to rope. Plenty of horses to get ridden. A vision splendid.

Wish I had some pictures or video to share. We had a FLiP video camera. We even knew how to use it. ;) We even set it up behind the heading box. And then, guess what...we forgot to turn it on.

So anyway, Doc Williams showed up around 1:20 with his two vet techs and we loaded up and went to the Little Quincy to get blood samples on 32 head of broodmares for coggins testing. Everything ran smooth and we were horseback at the arena again by 3:00.

Morgan met us a half hour later and then Mick and Dick showed up right after him. We're full tilt now. Couple of older horses to aid in the process of bringing along the colts. It's important to be able to shape a run for young heel horses. And young horses everywhere. Shaq and Morgan were shaping runs for me and Mellow Yellow. It was a little much for him just turning two, but he took it well and will be getting a much deserved break. Dick and Hercules had just finished helping me out with Bugsy. He's really getting fun to heel on now and Dick has Hercules looking like he might make his first county roping this year. Mick and J. Tim had some lead issues but that's why we're down there. He looked good when he quit him.

What I really enjoyed was seeing Quail back in action under my good friend Shannon. They fit. Quail looked great and Shannon roped well, too. What surprised me was his little mare Lucy. She made her debut today in the arena and took it level and calm. Nice little mare.

Of course there were plenty others, like the little paint out of Franky and Morgan's black mare and still others. I just don't have time to include them all. And it would probably bore you anyway.

So here's to one of those great we-roped-all-day-Thursdays.

I've got to hit the sack.

Team Roping Thursday

Today was one of those days I love. Work, then play. I guess there is a certain amount of work involved in the play since most of the time I'm roping on colts. I love bringing them along so much though that it just couldn't count for work.

My lovely bride accompanied me to the ranch this morning so I didn't plunge through the darkness to get there at 8:00am like I usually do. We pulled in around 10:30 and had a nice visit with Mom before lunch. After lunch, the crew headed to the Dick Shelton. Jesse reported that one of the bull calves that hit the fence last time we were there was in the water trap. He's probably 18 or so months and so if your familiar with cattle you know it's time for this guy to head to the auction barn.

When we arrived there were probably ~40 head of Brahman cattle in the trap. And there he stood. He wasn't alone though. There ended up being five shippers in the bunch and three or four replacement heifers as well. We had already worked this place this year, so there weren't many left. More than we thought though. So there he was. Probably 650 - 700 lbs. Short-horned, 6 inch or so, and straight out. Good to rope. Bad for you or your horse. High headed and ready to roll. Blessed by the large herd, it looked like he might stick around. If he had been alone, he'd already be gone.

Things went our way though and we penned the whole bunch save a few cows with babies. We loaded the shipper bulls and replacement heifers and headed for the house. Wow. That went way quicker than any of us thought. So guess what. We roped.

Cowboy Consistancy in South Texas: Going 4 for 4 (part 2)

Update: Click Here for Part 1

Lunch usually gets wrapped up pretty quick on days like these and so we were back at the pens loading up a little before 1:00 pm.

I had saddled the paint horse right before lunch so all I had to do was grab a bit since Dick had already loaded the horses when Dad and I arrived. Everyone else was riding the horse they rode that morning. Lilly did fine, but she's not ready for what we may get into this afternoon.

Well we headed down 202 until we got to Trunkline and took a left back into the ranch. Down the dusty old ranch roads we went. Two ranch rigs, the rolling pens, and my grandfather in his trusty chevy punching through the rising dust that hadn't been hit by a drop of rain in more than eight months. About twenty minutes later we got to the lake and left everything but the rolling pens. If you rattle a bunch of stock trailers up to a trap of Brahmans that haven't seen anybody since this time last year, you can't be surprised when you arrive and don't have many cattle to work.

Cowboy Consistancy in South Texas: Going 4 for 4 (part 1)

Update: Click Here for Cowboy Consistancy in South Texas - Part 2

Anybody who has worked cattle in the brush country of South Texas knows that consistancy isn't really part of the deal. Sure, there's a plan when you get started, but you never know what's going to happen.

Before I get to far into this story, let me set the stage a bit. I head south from San Antonio, Texas every Thursday to a place I like to call Quincy. Sometimes I am tasked with riding as many horses as humanly possible before 3:00 or 4:00 pm, roping till dark, and then heading back home. Those are the days I live for. Most days though, we work cattle. Truth be told, I live for those days as well.

Well yesterday we worked cattle. I headed out around a quarter till 6:00 after I fed the horses and loaded up some old roping calves that I was returning to the ranch. Just south of Pleasanton the sun started to rise and I knew it was going to be a beautiful day.

The calves and I arrived around 8:00 am and I met my dad, Morgan, at his house. We fed some of the weanling colts and headed over to the Murphy to drop off the calves and put out some round bales.

"So what do yall have going to day," I asked him.
"We've got some trapped over at the Cat and Pop's got some over in Little Quincy and the Coots," was Dad's response.