I had a heifer that had a calf but didn’t seem to know that she was supposed to take care of it.
I gave the calf to a neighbor’s son, who is 7 years old. I saw the young boy a few days later and asked him about the calf, and I also asked if he had given the calf a name yet. Mom said, “We are not going to name him until we are sure it is going to live.”
We received some very nice rain a few days ago. It is very unusual for northwest Oklahoma and the Panhandle to get rain and not the rest of the state. I heard of a report of a man close to Guymon getting 10 inches with Beaver area 5 1/2 inches and our area 2 to 3 inches. It was very nice. The only part that wasn’t nice was water gaps and fences laid over. But I am not complaining. I remember a few times with my neighbors to the west getting big rains and us none.
We had put in water gaps with no moisture. I told the boys to be sure and bring their rubber boots as there is water standing under the one bridge. I don’t know which is the worst: no rubber boots or rubber boots filled with water.
This past weekend we went to a 65th wedding anniversary for my aunt and uncle. While we were there I brought up the memory of when my three cousins came out one day to build fence about 30 years ago. It was on land that my mother and their mother owned together. All three quickly responded with the same scenario of, “I knew I didn’t plan on doing that type of work the rest of my life.” One of them said that definitely made him study harder.
One man got a huge rain over several days that started out nice and ended up overwhelming. He used a white, 5-gallon bucket to record the rainfall with every inch marked with a different word.
The first inch said “Yay.” The next mark said, “Thank you, Jesus.” The third mark said, “All Right,” and the fourth one, “Wow.” The fifth inch said “Sheesh,” and the sixth one said “Daggnabbit.” The seventh inch mark said “Stop,” the eighth said, “There goes the lawn chairs.” The ninth mark said, “There goes the deck.” The 10th mark said “Blubber blbd,” the 11th said “SOS” and the 12th inch said, “Help me, Jesus!”
Editor’s note: The views expressed here are the author’s own and do not represent the view of High Plains Journal. Jerry Nine, Woodward, Oklahoma, is a lifetime cattleman who grew up on his family’s ranch near Slapout, Oklahoma.
