word (must want to be a cowboy). He jumped off his horse and went wading into the poison oak, yelling at the cattle to get out. We had cattle everywhere and there was a lot of crashing and yelling, because as soon as the cattle were out of the scrub oak, some of them circled around and went back in again. The dogs really got after them, biting their heels, noses and ears, until they lined out and got back on the trail. How we ever did this before the dogs, I don’t know. I do remember doing a lot more tying my horse and struggling through the brush on my hands and knees to push the cattle out of bad places.
T
here was no quitting, and so eventually with the dogs barking, people yelling and horses pushing, the cattle gave up and moved back to the trail. When we arrived at the Rambo, we re-counted to see if we had lost any cows, and watered the horses. By that time, it was 4:00 and we’d been working for nearly 10 hours. The trip back to the ranch
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house is all downhill and took another couple of hours, so by the time we finally arrived home, the sun was setting and we’d been riding for nearly 12 hours. Brandon’s smile was a little slow in coming, but nary a complaining word came from him, and April was her always-energetic self. We rinsed, watered and fed the horses and were able to take a shower ourselves—thank heavens for modern conveniences!
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suppose rounding up cattle might sound picturesque and romantic to those who have never done it. What is it about the job I always look forward to, that makes me happy and feeling fulfilled?
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t’s the country. It’s the unexpected, not knowing what is going to happen that day. It’s what will you find? What beautiful thing will appear? The other day on a gather at the Alisal, an historic old ranch in Santa Ynez, I saw a bald eagle up close, sitting in the top of a tree in the foggy mist of an early morning. Now, what gets better than that?