Saw two coyotes head over the rimrock this morning, unhurried, curious, yet wise enough to leave the territory.
Dally must be locked up the past few mornings, or she follows us, eager to learn and I am unable to watch her carefully around the hay trailer, yearlings, and soon-to-be momma cows. She must learn to remain at home as well, and I hope that some good comes of kennel training.
I have been leaving either Elsa or Lucas home with her…they are put out, but I actually can “top off” these dogs when I have them one on one.
Cows are much like people. Some are content with the first flake of hay that comes their way, and stand and patiently munch away. Others follow for a while, nudging each proffered flake until they settle on one. Some cows share larger flakes, others are pushy and demand single ownership. Other cows continue to follow the hay trailer ever seeking something better…greener, softer, grassier, alfalfa-ier, weedless, thistle-less, moister, drier… Some are never content until forced to become that way. Their choices all exhausted, they return to formerly visited piles, and force less lucky cows off of their final choice. Some take bites of one pile, and amble to the next, and the next, and often bucking their way to another flake, enjoy it all. Are they not like people???
Elsa minds tremendously better when a long line is attached… is she not like people??? If I knew someone could give me an immediate swift jerk when I do wrong, I would rarely risk any unruly behavior either!
When cows have crisp white snow blankets on their backs, often you can tell how little they have moved overnight because the blankets don’t have those “earthquake cracks” created by movement. But they rarely shake themselves as horses and dogs do…why?
The squeaking of snow increases as the temperature decreases. Anyone ready for spring yet?
The zillion stars overhead tempt me much more in winter…the lights are brighter, the skies clearer… and I look… and head inside to warm up!
I glimpse my buddy in my rearview mirror.. he keeps an eye on me, guarding, watching, listening, and smelling for the Dangerous Unknown. His job is serious and he can’t wait until he can brush his big head against my hand, waiting for a reassuring touch that says “all is well”. He’s a Good Dog.