The other night we were kept awake by the cow bawling all night. I got up at midnight, getting ready to go outside thinking that her baby was lost by the river or something, then realized that she must be in heat. The man said we should breed her back on her first heat so she would calf in early June instead of July, because of the awful fly season. So she was bawling for a man, and little did she know, her man was spending the summer down the valley, bad as he is.

He has escaped so many times this summer, usually when my man is gone. The next morning we hurry after milking to go get him in the trailer. Alas, no bull. Figures.

We follow his tracks up the dirt road, for miles, but not nearly as far as he usually goes. We look over and in a hay meadow there are about 15 black cows and a massive black bull, and our bad Jersey bull. The chances of us separating him from them in a hay meadow with no corrals, was exactly zero.

Miraculously, there were three big cattle trailers, filled with saddled horses and dogs, in the road with the real deal cowboys standing around looking at the cows.

“Have you seen a Jersey bull?”

“Yup, right over there, is he yours?”

They had driven for a couple of hours that morning over the mountain from Saguache, to move their hundreds of cows which are grazing up in the high mountains on forest service land. These few cows for some reason just came down to the valley, about 6 weeks early, so these guys were so surprised to find them in the meadow. They were just then getting ready to get them out of the meadow and push them on horses up the road for a few miles where there was a ranch that had cattle pens.

Of course it was no big deal to them to include our bull and separate him out for us in the pens. Chances of us doing that? zero.

Chances of us finding the bull if the cows had decided to go the miles back up the mountains to rejoin their herd. zero.

Chances of finding him and getting him back to the farm to have a honeymoon with Faline while she was still in heat? zero.

It took a couple of hours, as they were a long way from the pens, but they corralled them in a jiffy.

Just for fun they roped a big calf that was with the herd, on the first try, and then let him go.

But all of this amazingly worked out, and we still can’t believe our luck. These guys were straight out of a movie.

Now that Faline is bred, Sir Loin will spend a few more weeks in the meadow before taking a ride on the trailer to freezer camp. All day he has been walking the fences to plan his escape route, now that she is no longer interested in him, so he might have to take that ride a bit earlier than planned.

Note to self: never buy a bull again.