Ahh, what a long way I've come from my days in New York and L.A.
Should've seen me last night... chasing down a cow in my flip flops!
Greer and I came home from getting her hair cut to find Byron
and Holland trying to round up our remaining two cows and a baby.
We joined in the chase... helping to get the Mama and the other cow
in the trailer. You'd think the calf would be a cinch to lasso.
Um no.
You'd have laughed yourself silly watching all of us running
back and forth across the pasture to 1. wear the calf out
and 2. get him close enough to Byron so he could lasso him.
And Byron tried so hard and came so close- many, many times.
Like, a hundred times. Or attempts. No joke.
It was hilarious and exhausting and everything else.
Finally, the planets aligned. Or the calf got too tired.
No matter, Byron got him on a dead run.
And got a horrific rope burn to show for his efforts.
But we got them all loaded, locked and moved
to our friend's greener pastures
where they will get nice and fat.
And... hopefully, a little action.
They are now back in the company of our neighbor's bull.
And I think I'll just leave it at that.
Oh, and by the way, Greer got 8 inches cut off.
That girl has enough hair for half the country.
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