Losing Skilled Help

Suddenly, I’m facing the same labor shortage that other businesses have been talking about since the end of the pandemic.

For most of the summer, I have been able to avoid the significant consequences of losing my number one skilled helper, but now the cattle and sheep need my efforts in the corral.

Most of the time, working in the corral goes far better with at least two people.

My daughter, Abby, has been that second person for the last seven years.

Then she ditched me to follow her own dreams and education.

One big part of me is immensely proud of her, another medium-sized part of me wonders what in the world I will do without her and a third little part is slightly ticked off that my slave labor left me.

That last part might have contributed to Abby’s departure.

I suspect I’m in the same spot as many other ranch parents.

Abby has been the sheep pusher during worming and weaning.

She has been the gate cutter when I weaned calves.

She has ridden the corner when we turned the cattle into the corral and when we gathered calves that escaped from the corral.

And she has carried cold calves across an icy creek when the temperature looked up but couldn’t see 0.

Not everyone has this diverse skillset.

Fortunately, my friend, Mary, likes sheep so last Sunday the two of us found ways to streamline our sheep worming and lamb weaning strategies.

We let the sheep do more of the work.

Most of them found their way into the chute without much guidance from either of us.

We moved slower and the sheep moved faster.

The two of us ended up doing what four of us have always done in the past.

When we finished, we both noticed that our arms ached from holding and tubing each ovine, but we had caught up on one another’s life and were not any more filthy when we were done than we have been in the past.

I still had some daylight after Mary went home to take a shower and I have a lot of fall jobs to finish before the weather turns ugly so I decided I would bring the cows home from their summer pasture.

This is a beautiful ride. Abby and I have always enjoyed the conversation that horses bring to the saddle as we ride out to the cows.

Usually, the cattle are ready to come home so gathering isn’t hard.

This time, I talked to my dog and my horse.

Both are good listeners, but they didn’t contribute a lot of unexpected ideas to the conversation.

But both of them contributed a lot to gathering the cattle, cutting out a neighbor’s cow and her calf and leaving a wayward bull behind.

The cows knew the way home so I called Abby as I rode along.

Then a couple of calves missed the gate.

One has to wonder how two calves can watch the entire herd walk through a wide gate before they nose-nudge the barbed wire and turn into the fence.

Somehow, they manage.

Fortunately, Abby knows that when I say I gotta go, that means right this second, no time for another story or one more “I love you.”

I galloped down the hill around the calves and brought them back to the gate, glad the cows were still in their sight.

I left the cattle with their heads down in tall grass that I had saved for them all summer.

Then I called Abby to hear about her latest steps toward her dreams and education.

She is making progress and so am I.