Maxwell The Wonder Cow Dog

The best cow dog around passed away recently, after being our sidekick for many years.  Maxwell The Wonder Cow Dog was a Border Collie, McNab cross that was given to me as a yearling. Cute as could be with his black and white coat, one blue eye and one blue/brown eye.

He had had no training on working cattle, but was schooled on basic commands.  

Everyone he met loved him, as he was ever the gentleman.  After he got the hang of working cattle he was amazing to watch.  He could handle just about anything.  
One time, moving cattle from one large pasture to another, with the gate on top of a knoll, the Cowman sent Max to gather the pasture, push the cattle up the hill, thru the gate, and turn them in the right direction.  Not an easy task for anyone, let alone one dog. As the Cowman was watching Max, and giving commands, up drives a fellow. 

"I've been watching your dog work for a while, would you be interested in selling him?"

The Cowman had been down this road before with people, "Well I couldn't take less than $5,000 for him" thinking this would end it.  The guy never batted an eye, and asked what form, cash or check, the Cowman wanted the payment in. 

The Cowman replied, "You know by watching him that dog is worth any three cowboys, so I don't think I will be interested in ever selling him."

The guy said, "Here's my name and number, if you ever change your mind give me a call, he's a Great Dog."

He was a Great Dog, he greeted you with gentleness and a wagging tail, he loved to work cattle in the pastures or the corrals, he could fetch and look after grand babies, he was a constant companion, he could make you laugh with his cow skiing trick, and a thousand other things. 

Gentle, wonderful Max, I miss you dearly.

~~~

Roll On

Spring, the wild flowers blooming, thunder boomers coming by to visit. A breeze off the water flows over you and if you close your eyes feels like water skiing at Tahoe.  Fresh cut clover and timothy hay smells drift across the meadow. Saddle leather creaks and groans, or maybe that's me.  Horses and dogs are sweaty from working cattle.  Warm days, cool nights. One spring I tied notes to tumbleweeds rolling by, never heard back.

The Best Part

The annual Roundup rodeo has come and gone for another year.  Thanks to one of my brother in laws, my Dad and I had great seats in the family box.
As I hadn't been in many years it was great fun, and a bit of a trip getting to see friends from long ago.  
The younger generation is continuing this annual family tradition, which is a good thing.  What a great bunch of kids and grandkids.
I have some terrific memories of the old Roundups.  It has changed a lot over the years, Dad and I both liked the old version better, possibly because we were more involved.  Spending time with family and friends was and is the best part.   

Not Go'n Anywhere

This wet spring brings to mind the year we decide Himself would go back to college to finish his degree.  We saved for a year, sold some cows, bought a good pickup, packed up our meager belongings, one horse, and the baby and headed out to the university.  
Surely we looked like a slightly modern version of folks from the Grapes of Wrath.  What with the borrowed wood slates on the back of the pickup, everything we owned piled in, a mattress tied on top, and a ratty old horse trailer behind.  Geez, Himself loved that horse of his, there was no way he was leaving him behind. 
A good pickup was a necessary purchase, as we did need dependable transportation for the long journey south.  Besides we got a heck of a deal on it as it was two shades brighter than school bus yellow and the dealer realized that no one else in three counties was going to be interested. 
We lived in an apartment in town for a short time, but it was too pricey, so we moved over the hill from campus to a small ranch.  The ranch was owned by an elderly couple who needed someone to care-take the place.  In exchange we got pasture for Himself's horse and a small house.  Actually a very small house, only three rooms, the main room with kitchen on one end and living area, with the only source of heat a tiny Franklin stove, on the other. Oh how I hated that tiny Franklin stove, it smoked, and was a bear to cook on when the electricity went out, which seemed to happen frequently. Have you ever tried to heat a baby bottle in the middle of the night by putting it in your armpit.
The little house sat with the front door facing a small river and the back door smackdab against a steep hillside.  You had to travel about a mile on an old road beside the river to get to the "main" road. 
Things were going along ok until it started to rain, and rain, and rain.  It was one of the wettest winters on record there that year.  The river was running high and fast, just like the little creek running in the back door and across the not so great room and out the front door of the house.  There was no stopping it, so I just put sand bags on either side of it.  It's funny now to remember stepping over the little creek running thru the middle of the house, to put wood in the stove, not so much at the time.
Himself decided it was getting a little too dangerous to stay, so he loaded up his horse and moved him to a horse ranch on higher ground. After more rain he thought it might even be too dicey for us to stay, but by this time the old road was under water.  A friend got concerned, and walked in to check on us.  We packed up what we could carry, put the baby in a sling on my back, and started the long walk out to the main road.  We hadn't gotten far when Himself called a halt, he had to go back for something.  After he got back to us we finished that long walk on the steep hillsides, in the rain, to the main road.
It was wonderful to be taken in by another college couple. It was heaven, especially since they had central heat and electricity.
After hot showers, a hot meal, and a few glasses of wine.  I asked Himself what he had gone back for at the house.
 "After all our hard work to buy that pickup, I'll be damned if I'll let the river take it.  So I got the biggest chain I could find, wrapped it around the biggest oak tree, then around the axle on the pickup and padlocked them all together. That pickup's not go'n anywhere." 

I'm supposed to be...

I'm supposed to be weed eating the back 40, too wet.  I'm supposed to be painting the inside of the kitchen cupboards, too damp.  I'm supposed to be changing the oil in the ol SUV, too nasty.  I'm supposed to be putting up the drapery rods, too boring.  I'm supposed to be studying, too busy.  I'm supposed to be finding an electrician, too costly.  I'm supposed to be mowing the lawn, too rainy.  I'm supposed to be doing taxes, too confusing.  I'm supposed to be looking for work, too old.  I'm supposed to be gathering eggs,  too many.  I'm supposed to be cleaning out the garage, too tired.  I'm supposed to be planting in the garden, too cold.  I'm supposed to be planning dinner, too unorganized. I'm supposed to be sewing, too uninspired. I'm supposed to be ironing, too hot.  I'm supposed to be a lot of things.  I want to be hugging and loving my kids and grandkids, that I DO.