Visiting Baby

I went to visit Sir Baby. He’s with the cows and the other bulls on their spring pasture. It’s gorgeous.

This is the road going in. Mike calls this a road. I call it a truck trail.
It only goes so far, then it’s time to travel a’foot.

This pasture is a couple thousand acres, which we lease from another rancher.
It’s all natural rangeland, untouched by human cultivation methods, no chemical fertilizers, no genetically modified seeds. Just wild Wyoming grass.

Hidden Edens, each more beautiful than the last, lay thick with grass, trees sheltering the creek.

The creek meanders through the land, roiled brown from mountain snowmelt.
This is where they drink!

Another of those ‘I’m-not-from-Wyoming’ bits: I say “creek” and everyone else says “crik.” I once asked Mike how to spell “crik” and he looked at me like you’re not that dumb and said “C-R-E-E-K.” Okaaaay, then.

The cows roam free. Here, there’s no sign of human interference ~ no road noise, no telephone poles, no buildings for as far as the eye can see, in all directions.

I wasn’t sure if I would even see Baby ~ 2000 acres is a lot of land to canvass. But I spotted him easily from afar; it’s not hard to distinguish a bull from a cow even at a distance thanks to the way they posture this time of year, sniffing the air for love.

I saw a hint of pink in his ear and knew it was Baby. He was with a group of cows across the creek, obviously courting one of them. He’s the one on the left.

She likes him!

<3

Bulls Love Dirt

It’s true.

They all do.

Sir Baby is no exception.

My Baby

Sir Baby.

I love this bull.

He has remained gentle and sweet and so very dear, even when he was in with the heifers and everyone said he would turn mean for a spell. He always came to me when I would visit him, and lean against me ever so gently as I leaned against him.

He’s huge. He’s huge for a yearling and he still has a year or two of growing yet to do. His hooves are heavy and jet black, his shoulders are massive, his hair is thick and curly…. he belongs on the cover of a romance novel.

I get so filled with pride when I look at him, at how he’s grown into such a perfect expression of what he’s meant to be.

I’m so glad he’s home again.

Sir Baby Becomes A Man

On Sunday, we put Sir Baby in a gorgeous pasture filled with lush, knee-high grass. Bushy alfalfa. Two huge shade trees. Fresh flowing water. And twenty plump, eager virgins. It’s time for Baby to earn his keep!

Sir Baby trotted through the gate. He stopped for a breath as the heifers surrounded him. Then he ran.

And the girls took off after him.

And when he stopped, the herd of heifers surrounded him once again.

(that’s Sir Baby in the foreground, and a hussy in the back riding another heifer)