Gate Watch; With Horns
March is in like a lion and out like a lion. No lamb yet. Still cold, blustery and icy with a little bit of tundra on top. But that is no match for me I thought. The roads may still be icy, but guess what? I still have my snow tires on. So screw you post-Winter weather. I’m still going out to run my dumb errands. So I stepped out the door, and stepped right back in the door. Icy, icy porch. Where are my crampons? Where are my big girl pants? I guess I have to find them out there on the icy road because Pete wouldn’t let me back in the house without them. Thanks guy, next time you need a gate watcher we’ll see what happens.
One hour later, “I may need you to watch the gate for me.” Good thing I found my big girl pants out on the icy road.
But this is no problem. We’re just above the freezing mark so I’m comfortably numb. No freezing. In fact I went without gloves. And along comes the straw man. So, I ran to the gate and opened it feeling like this is a breeze. Just unlock the gate, usher back the steer, let in the skid steer, Pete and myself, lock the gate, stand in the pen and watch. As usual it took me a few seconds to really secure the lock before I looked up to observe. And when I did finally look up:
Oh shit…I mean, hello Sir. Mister Sixteen sir. Crap. Okay, who forgot to take the horns off of this one?? I mean I know he’s not a bull, but if you’ve got horns you’ve got balls. Or pretend balls anyway. So I just figure let’s not play games here. Nod politely and don’t look him in the eye. Oh crap, too late:
We locked eyeballs again. I couldn’t help myself. He looks quite proud with his unshorn horns and tuft of unruly hair crowning his poll. One might even say he’s handsome, once one gets over the fright of standing eyeball to horn with him in a locked pen. I wonder if he knows just how handsome he is. And I wonder how he managed to slip by without getting dehorned. A clever ruse I suppose. I asked Pete last night how that came about. I don’t think I got a solid answer. I do think I got an eye roll. No matter, it’s nice to see a Holstein with props and a little attitude. Check you later Mr. Sixteen.