From the Heart
This rancher has a soft spot for range cattle.
Every morning gives Sharon, my wife of 54 years, an opportunity to provide treats for several animals living on and around our hilltop property. Raised in the city, she developed a deep love for all kinds of animals over the years. She revels in her interactions with our local critters—she has even put up with me for more than half a century.
Our home rests on the point of a ridge in the Sierra Nevada foothills. Surrounding our house is an open pasture for our small herd of cattle on the west side and for our two horses on the east. These are range cattle, raised in the hills. They’re not comfortable with human interaction, but Sharon can get close to them and the horses. To help the process, she’s generous in supplementing their diet.
This all began when she learned her aging mare, Shiplay, was in need of a prepared feed to fill out her nutrition. Senior mix is designed for older horses, adding minerals they may need, and Sharon began feeding it to Shiplay in a rubber pan along the fence line. The other horses got used to coming to the fence with Shiplay, knowing that kindhearted Sharon would put a scoop of senior mix in their rubber pans, too. When Shiplay died at about 27 years of age, the other horses saw no reason not to come beg for their treats. And Sharon was happy to comply.
Another highly pampered critter on our hilltop is Spirit, a 7-year-old heifer. She was a twin, born with ankles that didn’t extend properly, and was rejected by her mother. Her ankles soon uncurled, and she became a bottle-fed calf. She was raised in the dog kennel near the house. Eventually she returned to the pasture with the cows, but she seems to be more comfortable living in the horse pasture, where she doesn’t have to compete with the bigger animals.
One of the cows in our herd sports a large pair of curved horns. Several years ago, Sharon noticed that
Old Momma was looking a little thin. Her robust calf looked very healthy and stout, so it was obvious the cow was sacrificing to support her calf. I was raised on a cattle ranch, and Sharon asked me what might cause this. I explained the most likely cause was a set of shortened teeth, which can happen for a variety of reasons, mostly age. It was obvious to Sharon that Old Momma needed help.
She began the task of getting the range-wise cow near enough to be fed grain in a rubber pan. Either Old Momma wasn’t easily spooked or Sharon has a talent—or both.
Within a few days, Old Momma was coming to the patio gate to stand patiently and wait for somebody to feed her. The old cow seemed comfortable coming close to humans, though the other animals never got quite that brave as long as Sharon stood near the gate.
That is, except for Mr. Boo, my 1-ton herd sire, who has developed a taste for grain. Today he has his own rubber pan outside the patio gate, though he doesn’t come up every time the older cow does. But when he does, they stand munching together, like an old married couple.
Sharon connected with Old Momma from the beginning. When she discovered some crusting in the corner of the aging cow’s eye, she set out to wipe it clean with a warm wet rag. “I’m sure she’ll let me wipe her eyes if I just go slow,” Sharon said.
I had my doubts, but I shouldn’t have, given my bride’s ability.
A couple of days later, after I’d warned her it wouldn’t work, Sharon came dancing back to the house carrying the rag and wearing a satisfied look.
“I opened the gate and talked to her, telling her I wouldn’t hurt her—that I was going to help her and make her feel better,” she said. “I didn’t even have to wipe while she was eating. She just stood there quietly and let me clean her eyes.”