I smooch at Hooch and begin our descent down the mountain. Twenty minutes later, I spot a group of the yearlings.
I look at Rein and give her the cue, “Ssksskssk.”
She speeds through the trees, barking as she gets close, nipping at their heels, effectively pushing them into a group. A few rebels head to run up the mountain, but we’re quick to cut them off on our horses. They spin around, all of them now running in the right direction.
I call off the feral red hound.
She lays down, her tail wagging like, “Look what I did, Mom!”
I chuckle at her.
We locate more cattle after another fifteen minutes and direct them down the mountain. Within about three hours, the trees start to clear, signaling we’re near the bottom. Everything is going smoothly until I turn my head to the right to see a single yearling break off into a dead run back up the mountain.
I holler at the closest cowboy, “Open your eyes, your future isn’t that bright!”
He looks up in time to watch the steer run right by him.
“Stay with the herd!” I yell as I kick up Hooch and shake out a loop in my rope. Rein is reliably at my side. We run back into the woods where I can see the black calf weaving between trees. In my pursuit, I’m dodging branches. Everyone gave me hell for keeping Hooch, but riding a short horse means I don’t have to duck near as many branches.
I give Rein her command and she takes off like a bolt of lightning. She heads off the steer in a small clearing. The calf cuts back left, but not before I throw my loop. It goes perfectly over its head as one front leg slips directly into it. I pull the rope’s slack and wrap it around the saddle horn, dallying off.
I whistle, calling off Rein while Hooch pulls the calf back toward the herd. As soon as we exit the trees, I ride around the calf and un-dally. I give it a little push toward the herd now that it can see them.
By midafternoon, we get about thirty-five head of cattle back to the ranch and into the corral. The others are an hour or so behind. Except for Dad, he’ll be about five hours on that south side and I know that’s why he took it. He’s always watching out for me.
I was seven when my mom died. Since then, it’s just been me and Dad. Growing up, he was my superhero, and I guess he still is. It didn’t matter what function it was, my dad was there. Whether dance recitals, tea parties, or ropings, he always madetime to be there. Half the time at school events it was him and thirty-five moms in the room, but it never seemed to bother him.
The two cowboys and I ride back to the barn to untack. I put my saddle and bridle away and walk Hooch out to the wash rack to spray him down. After tying him up, I grab a hoof pick and pick up each of his feet to clean them out, making sure no rocks are stuck. I work my way around him, and when I get to the last foot, I notice the shoe is gone.
“Damn it, Hooch, you pulled a shoe,” I reprimand like he can talk back.
Thankfully, it came off clean. He didn’t break out any of the hoof wall, but I’ll still be calling the farrier.
I put him on the walker to cool down while I pick his stall. I give him some hay and top off his water bucket, then I do the same for Dad’s horse’s stall.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial the farrier. It rings until I get his voicemail, and I leave a message.
“Hey, Jack, it’s Kacey. Hooch lost a shoe today. I know it’s short notice, but I have a jackpot next weekend. If you can make it over before then, that would be great. Call me back when you get a chance. Thanks.”
As I put Hooch away for the day, I can see four cowboys in the distance with about thirty head in front of them. I relax when moments later, I see Dad accompanying the last thirty-five or so.
I’m latching the gate behind Hooch when my phone rings.
“Hey, Kacey, it’s Jack. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it out. A horse kicked me today and broke my shinbone.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that.”
This is not good.I not only need a shoe back on, but I have other horses that will need to be reset in a few weeks.
“Ah, it’ll buff. I’ll be back at it in six weeks.”
“Okay, well, get healed up. If you know any other farriers, please let me know.”
“Yep, I’m going to call around and see who I can get to fill in that doesn’t suck.”
I snort. There are a lot of farriers who suck. “Thanks, Jack. Take care of that leg.”
“I will. I’m going to the Fort Worth Stockyards with some buddies this weekend. I’ll have to crutch my ass around, but at least I won’t have to drive.”
