Strike while the iron is hot

“Rain or shine, we’re branding,” is what my grandpa told my mom on the phone last Wednesday night.

Every year my family brands cattle at my grandparents’ and great uncle’s ranch. This year we weren’t sure if the weather would cooperate, but we were on a mission, and luckily, Mother Nature was kind to us.

My earliest memories of branding are sitting in the back of a pickup truck, pinching my nose closed to avoid the smell. Anyone who has branded before knows it isn’t the most pleasant scent, and if you haven’t branded before, you can imagine.

Oh, and of course I remember eating my grandma’s infamous potato salad. Her potato salad is so good it makes the struggles of the day worth it.

When I was young, the brandings were done the old-fashioned way; roping the calves and wrestling them down. Now, we load the cattle into a bin and push them through an alleyway into a squeeze chute. The chute is good for us since we never know how many helpers we will have in our crew.

As a kid, my favorite part of the branding was gathering the cows. This was because I got to ride the horses.

I’ve ridden a lot of horses, but my favorite has always been Cocoa. He’s an amazing cow horse but he can be lazy and that’s what I like about him.

He would leisurely walk along behind the cows, occasionally stopping to eat, and my mom would remind me to keep his head up and keep him moving. As soon as she turned away I would let him grab more grass to gnaw on.

Although we spent most of our day like that, in a moments notice he could chase after a cow that ran back from the herd, and he would do it faster than anyone else. As a reward, I would let him eat more. I like to think we had an understanding.

My grandparents used to have a ranch in Ten Sleep, Wyo., but about ten years ago they moved to Miles City, Mont. to help my great uncle with his farm and ranch.

Well, the ranch is 50 miles from any town, but technically it is part of Miles City. When they made the move, we started using the chute to brand. I rode horses to gather the cattle for a few more years, but four-wheelers eventually took over.

My mom’s best friend, who comes every year, fills in where she is needed and keeps everything light and happy with her sunny disposition. She is a crucial member of the crew.

Usually my brother and my uncle maneuver the calves to push them into the chute, but this year neither of them could make it to the branding, so I had to handle that job; thankfully with my dad’s help.

We try to brand in May, but we had to brand late this year because of conflicting schedules so the calves were huge! We’re talking 350-pound calves. Boy, will my brother and I have words later.

Since the calves were so big, they tried to jump over the alleyway walls, and a couple were successful. My dad and I were stomped on and kicked several times.

Everyone in the crew left with some variation of a battle wound. After an eight-hour day, and many complications later, we got it done, and I have the bruises to prove it. Still, with my whole body sore, all I could think about was that damn potato salad.

 

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