Revisited

Most of the cows trailed along with their calves clinging tightly beside them while being pushed towards the corrals.  Men on horesback sought high ground to use as vantage points to view any stragglers hidden in the many draws and canyons on the ranch as other men on 4-wheelers quickly zipped around the vast property also collecting cagey mommas seeking refuge.  Heavy spring rains had the rolling eastern plains of Colorado lush with grass and waterholes brimming at capacity.

A few lone cows and calves that were further out on the range had been left behind while the labor force focused on pushing the herd into the corrals.  Once the gates shut, some stayed to sort the calves from the cows while others went back out to bring in the isolated remaining pairs.  These lone cows were on hyper-alert for intruders and very willing to protect their babies.  Initially, the cows would head out with their calves stumbling beside them, striving to keep pace with their mom.  After rapidly covering some ground, the young calves quickly tired.  As they neared the corrals that were full of bawling calves that were separated from their hollering mothers, the arrivng cows became very wary.  One lingering pair needed extra encouragement to keep moving forward as the cowboy pressed closer.

Moments later, the ornery cow did her motherly duty by spinning and charging the annoying threat. The rider and horse went to the right, but the thick cow skull became a battering ram bashing into the horse. A brief stumble while dancing away from the renegade created distance and the opportunity to check for injury. Thankfully hornless, no blood was gushing as a 4-wheeler swiftly darted behind the cow to get her to move. Another collision ensued whereby the cow relented and went through the gates, with her calf at her heels, where they were separated into their respective groups.

Everyone took their positions as spring branding was to begin. 

One at a time, calves were funneled into a single file alley where their escape was through a chute where a scissor-type gate closed around their necks.  Panels ratcheted and squeezed their sides as the chute was tilted where the calves were at table height laying on their right side.  Their left hind leg was grabbed and pulled rearward where bulls became steers and thick, choking, brown smoke curled up from the branding iron making its mark. Vaccination needles poked and an ear tag was attached in each ear, one with a number for identity and the other saturated with fly repellent to battle the pesky insects. Upon completion, the chute pivoted to the upright position and the side panels released their grip as the headgate opened to allow freedom where the calves returned to their awating mothers.

The chorus from the herd was nearly deafening, the odor of singed hair coated nasal passages and manure was smeared, randomly, everywhere.  Afterwards, good food with great people was shared. 

It'd been years, but the day's effort was cherished and proved to be a hard slap in the face realizing how badly it is missed.