Jaws Hates Cows, part 2

Todd on top of mountain waiting for rest
of herd before making push over ridge
coming off top.

 ...the herd was lined out nicely along the fence. Kyle was ahead of me, near the top of a rise, when I heard, "Oh, sh--!" ... Then Kyle shouted something else. I only caught one word: "Jaws!" I knew we were in trouble. At the top of the rise where there should have been tails, was a sea of faces. The entire lead was coming back on top of us in full stampede with that sorry yellow bird-dog of Todd's romping down the middle like a fox in a pen of chickens... (end part 1)


Nobody wants to be the cause of a wreck, be it himself, his kids, or his dog, and I think Todd, being the boss, was a bit embarrassed. I'll never forget looking over at him gripping that big yellow dog. He sat there for a minute, then this big grin spread across his face. In that characteristic slow drawl of his, he summed it up in typical cowboy fashion: "Jaws hates cows."

It was too soon to be funny, but after awhile I couldn't help giggling to myself as I imagined how the whole scenario would have looked to someone sitting up on the side of the mountain. And though it would have been nice to have Ray's help, it was probably just as well that Ray had missed out on this particular adventure.

As we sat there letting the herd settle, Todd's oldest son drove up, and sheepishly came to retrieve the dog--letting us know that it was little brother who had let him escape in the first place.

I was really dreading the hard part now. Entering the canyon, the narrow road is squeezed between a sharp drop-off on the left, with a boggy pond in the bottom; and on the right, the slope steepens to the point where you have to step off your horse on the wrong side, and leave him tied to a scraggly sage brush while you scramble the last 50 feet or so to the fenceline on foot.

The narrow little gate is open, and right in front of the yearlings on the road. But all they see is that old white toilet placed at the side by the eccentric owner as a tongue-in-cheek "Rest Area". That's all the excuse silly yearlings need to bolt. Usually up that steep slope. I've never seen anyone nimble enough to get them all turned back. The escapees have to be retrieved at a later time.

I don't know why, and I sure never would have believed it. Maybe the earlier excitement had taken off their edge. But we got the heifers through the gate and on up the mountain that day better than I've ever seen it done.

A couple years later Jaws tangled with a wolf when Todd's wife and the dogs were out walking. I can picture Jaws tearing back to Rita with the wolves in hot pursuit. I have a sneaking hunch Jaws wasn't totally innocent.

Todd's got a good cow dog, Max, but for some reason he had a soft spot for that renegade bird dog. I wasn't exactly sympathetic when Jaws died, but I did refrain from any smart remarks. Now Todd's got a new chocolate lab bird-dog puppy.

I hope he calls him Teddy Bear.

S. Marxer, © 2010

Ray, Jake, Jason, and Sandee bringing heifers off top, 2009

Jaws Hates Cows (part 2)