Wolf Bait

Even I can remember the days when a rancher's or farmer's biggest job was taking care of the land and animals under his stewardship. He was encouraged to get rid of predators who attacked his animals and his livelihood. Society understood the relationship between a healthy ag industry, and a safe, healthy, high standard of living for the country in general.

It's officially spring. Typically viewed by ranchers as a fresh start. There's lots of baby calves on the ground, with a lot more to come next month. I think we're even having a bit of a “baby boom” with children!

For the most part, we've been fortunate with weather. We've gotten plenty of snow, but it's the nice wet spring stuff that goes into the ground fast, and promotes good spring regrowth of that glorious, powerful resource -- grass.

We've not been so fortunate with the wolf problem as we have been in the past. Firstly our neighbors who were sheep ranchers since they settled in this country, sold out. They were our buffer, bearing the brunt of problems with both wolves and coyotes. And secondly, regardless of what you may hear, the wolf population is expanding. Rapidly.

Livestock Damage Control has been excellent to work with, and have been instrumental in keeping losses at a manageable level. But that's changing rapidly too. They're scraping the bottom of the fund barrel, and there's no more money to fly, which is really the only way an area this large can be hunted by our one officer. What makes it more difficult is that most of the new packs don't have a collared female that can act as a "Judas" for the rest of a problem pack.

We've lost 3 animals so far this spring--one steer earlier, and two cows in the past couple of weeks. Both cows were about to give birth, so we've actually lost five animals. It could get real ugly. I hope not. There's plenty of game animals. I guess wolves just prefer easier pickings.

They gang up on the weakest animal, or the one who's strayed out too far on his own. They don't kill their victim. They harass it, running it in circles and tearing at its legs and hindquarters until the victim is totally exhausted or effectively hamstrung, then they eat it alive, leaving it to die on its own. Not a whole lot different than the predatory attitude of many wolf proponents whose admittedly ultimate agenda is to remove resource users from the land.

The rancher didn't give up easy back then, and, he's not going to now. We've got our mandate: “He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man, that He might bring forth food out of the earth.” Psalm 104:14.

It's not hopeless. There is still common-sense out there that prefers beef to wolf meat; and blunt cowboys to politically correct chameleons.

This calf came in this way at branding.
He obviously had one hot mama!

This steer was not so lucky.




 



I picked up this photo floating around the internet. It's not mine, and I would be more than happy to credit the owner--(or even give it back). I assume it was taken in neighboring Yellowstone. Very typical wolf work.



You Might be a Ranchwife if...

He offers to share his apple with you, but you politely decline when he pulls out his pocketknife. You know where that knife's been.

He buys you a new hat because he can't stand the shape of your old worn-out comfortable one.

When working the opposite side of the herd you learn to ignore him because you can't hear him anyway, and you can't understand his hand signals either.

You wear your patent leather pumps to church hoping that he'll get out and open the gate on the way.

The nearest Walmart is 85 miles away--and over 10 miles of that is dirt road. The bulk of your non-grocery shopping is done at the local ranch supply store, and that suits you just fine.

You learn to cook a meal for the cowboy crew that will be ready a half hour ahead of time, and still be good two hours later.

The first thing he ever taught you was how to handle a rope.

He sends you to get a little bunch of cows, and sends his cowdog with you to "help". You're not a cusser, but you get a certain satisfaction out of calling his dog a "son-of-a-b...." (several times) because he keeps running to the front and standing in the middle of the gate you're trying to put the cows through.

He makes you get rid of the Delphiniums and Lupine a generous lady in town gave you for your flower garden because they are poisonous to cows.

He brings you a handful of wild primroses when they first start blooming because he knows how much you love their smell.

The Good News Is...

"I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day." It's not in my hands, it's not in Washington DC's hands, it's not in the Pope's hands, and thank God, it's not in the hands of the liberal media, or even the “Save the Planet” people. "He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision." I'm glad I'm on His side.

After 4 days of traveling around Montana with my husband to bull sales, and spending time with other friends and relatives, I was having a hard time maintaining a cheerful, optimistic attitude. Not that we didn't enjoy the people, the country, and the travel. I was just feeling overloaded. I rarely watch TV. I rarely listen to the radio. I try to contain political argument and discussion to places where it could possibly be beneficial. I feel guilty complaining about cold and snow and spring runoff. I remember the years when we didn't have enough.

We were bombarded with all of the above, then to top it off, we were reminded how small we really are in the scheme of things compared to the mighty power of God when He shakes the earth just a little. (Earthquake in Japan)  Pay attention. Someday He's going to turn it "upside down". “How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation;” “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”

Years ago when the kids were little, we lived in cowcamp July through mid-November. There was no power, no phone, no mail. The preacher came up once a week and preached to anyone who was interested in attending. Most everyone did. He preached the Bible. The Gospel. “How that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day,” And,

“For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.” It's as simple as that. Salvation is a free gift, available to anyone who realizes they are a sinner bound for hell, and simply places their faith in Christ and the payment He made on our behalf on the cross. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” I often thought that God sent cowboys to work here for a year or two, just to give them a chance to hear the gospel.

Those were good years. There's something to be said for putting the right things in your head. In your kid's heads. People spit out the word “brainwashed” like it's a bad thing. You'd have to live in a total cocoon NOT to be brainwashed. It all depends on what you're washing with. Filth and poison and lies will eventually destroy it and them. Nothing wrong with a good “washing of water by the word.”

 “Great peace have they which love thy law: and nothing shall offend them.”

It is well with my soul.

References: 2Ti 1:12, Ps 2:4, Isa 24:1, Heb 2:3, Mk 8:36, 1 Cor 15:3-4, Eph 2:8-9, Ac 16:31, Eph 5:26, Ps 119:165

5 Ways to Recognize a Real Cowboy

I originally started out to do a light "Jeff Foxworthy" style "You Might be a Cowboy If... ", list, but I have a problem keeping things short and sweet. Oh well, material for another day. So here's my perspective on how to spot the genuine cowboys:

1. His hat. A genuine cowboy always buys the highest quality hat he can afford. All it takes is one good rainstorm to "out" the cheap ones. Sweat and dirt stains are real. Favorite work hats may have lost their shape and have a hole at the peak of their crease. Sorry, no bullet holes. Feathers? Not too likely. Hatbands? Only for dress. The original grosgrain band has likely disappeared, and some will have "stampede strings" with a sliding knot to prevent flying off during a wild chase or on days when the wind is gusting. Most cowboys just screw their hats down into "lock" position.

2.  His boots.  Again, the highest quality he can afford. And they won't be smooth, polished cowhide, or roughout with pointy toes and plastic soles. Bullhide or another tough type of leather such as sharkskin, with leather soles and a good spur ridge are first criteria. The foot is generally stained in varying shades of brown--at least when they're new. After awhile, they're all a dark, dirty shade of brown, with touches of scaley green stuff. Once retired, they're usually stored "in case" they're needed again, or converted to boot-top tool carriers, or rustic flower vases and decor.

3.  His mouth.  Real cowboys know what real bullshit is. Bulls can squirt pretty good. It can be pretty loose and nasty, then they swish it all over themselves with their t(ale)s. Real cowboys have learned to be tight-lipped. If you're wondering if a certain cowboy is the real deal, just listen for a minute. BS'rs have a bad habit of running at the mouth.

4.  His manners. A real cowboy is old-fashioned in many ways, including his manners. "Rude, crude, with an attitude", is a description I once came up with when asked what the difference was between cowboys and another category of western characters. A good illustration occurred last month at a major cattlemen's gathering. For the final hoorah, a well-known comedian was featured for a show. A few thousand cowboys, cattlemen, wives, and affiliates were seated in the auditorium. About half were wearing cowboy hats--including my husband. I was patient since it was early. Sure enough, at showtime a wave went through the audience. Cowboys were removing their hats. Except one. Who happened to be sitting right square in front of me. When it became obvious that the only thing I would see during the course of the show was the back of his hat, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and looked at me as I politely asked if he would mind removing his hat because I couldn't see. To my shock, he gave me this disgusted look, and said, "Yes I would mind," and turned away. I'm not sure why, probably because he became aware that his was the only hat in the room, but that rude little attitude finally removed his hat. Wearing a hat does not make a cowboy.

5.  His character. Most important of all. Cowboy skills can be taught. Character can not. A real cowboy goes about his work as if he had full ownership in it. He is respectful, honest, diligent, trustworthy, and resourceful. Character is personal development shaped by hard times, hard choices, experience, humility, and faith. It's what you are when no one else is around, Character is taking responsibility for your own decisions, your own choices--and your own mistakes. It's doing what's right even when it might personally inconvenience you.
  
Not all real cowboys are found on ranches. Some have been displaced to other vocations be it military, a job in town, or even a job in a city. But a real cowboy retains his integrity. He "cowboys up" and makes the best of whatever situation he finds himself in. A real cowboy is not a "victim" of circumstances--he changes his circumstances.

AND, real cowboys eat beef--sometimes grilled on top of a branding pot.

Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise... PV 18:28