Moving Bulls on the Miller Ranh

Moving bulls on the Miller Ranch, as with any ranch, means riders, horses, and dogs need to pay special attention to a bowed neck or a sudden halt.

The Miller Ranch had some winter moisture, but hot days and dry winds have seared much of the green. Our cows are calving now, and we are getting ready to drive them to the Lower Pasture. Because of this, bulls that wintered there needed to move.

Rising early . . . feeding horses, eating breakfast and saddling before the heat set in. Deciding which dogs to take.

Ringo, Pica, Faye, and Samuel were our four-footed partners and worked hard keeping the bulls moving and breaking up testosterone-fueled arguments.

The Miller Ranch normally only keeps bulls until they are five to six years old. Older bulls get ornery and are harder to work and move.

These bulls had been together in the same pasture so there wasn’t much drama.  Bill’s brother, Walter, changed that as he drove up on a four-wheeler with five bulls that had stayed down in the draw.

The bellowing, posturing and challenges erupted, especially among the older bulls and one little whipper-snapper that had been challenging the dogs every chance
he’d gotten. Thick dust, busy dogs . . . horses and riders paid attention to the bulls.

The Lone Red Ranger decided he didn’t want any part of the new bulls, so he charged through the herd, pushing everything in front of him. So we made good time to the gate into Two, the bulls moved on through and fanned out to enjoy new pasture.

Bill and I jogged back to the trailer. The dogs happily jumped into the water trough to cool off before loading up and driving back to headquarters: another job
done on the Miller Ranch.

Good Friday on the Miller Ranch

Good Friday . . . shipping calves, then rounding up heifers in Six and driving them to the Front
Mesa.

The sunrise was spectacular as Clay, Bill and I and our Border Collies gathered the steers and drove them to the farm so Albert, Clay and Joe Williams could sort and weigh them. Then Bill and I rode out to help Jessica and Colby gather the heifers in another pasture.

Once everything was sorted and weighed, it was time to load the truck.

Kirby and Joe figured up how many calves would fit in each of the cattle truck’s compartments,
and called out numbers, “Ten, seven, seven, . . . .”
Clay and Colby were well mounted and Jessica ran the gates. Moving and loading the calves
went smoothly.

Kirby and the calves left a slow rooster tail of dust in the warming air as they left the ranch.
We loaded our horses and moved over to Six to round up the heifers we were keeping. Last year we didn’t get much rain, although what little that fell came at opportune times. We were blessed with winter moisture: about four inches of snow and a couple showers. Normally, if the headers and tenajas have water in them, we drive the cows up into the Sierra Vieja Mountains along about November and they winter up there. They don’t have to water but every two or three days in the winter so their feet don’t get sore from the rocks. But this year, the winter moisture was better up on top than on the flats and there’s more feed up there, so we were going to take
advantage of it while it was available. We spread out to round up the heifers and drive them south up onto the Front Mesa. Well, these girls had other ideas. I had ridden down the west side of the pasture and found about ten heifers along the fence. When I crested a little ridge, I could see dust clouds back north as the girls decided they would rather not go anywhere, thank you very much! After a concerted effort from riders, horses and dogs, we finally got them out of the brush and headed the right way. There was a wild child or two that tested us for the first couple of miles.

Luckily, we picked up three cows that had come off the Front Mesa, and as we headed up the mountain, they got out in front and helped lead the way. I rode in behind the first twelve cows and heifers and started up the road. At times, my group would decide they’d rather not make that steep, rocky climb and wandered every which way, and Diablo and I loped and leaped all over the side of the mountain to get them going again. We raised Diablo and luckily he’s sure-footed and nimble in the rocks, boulders and cacti.
I finally topped out and headed the girls toward the canyon with the Fish Hole in it. They were thirsty, could smell the water by that point, and gratefully headed down into the water.

Jessica followed shortly with her group and Bill, Clay and Colby brought the last of the cattle.

Once all the cattle headed down to the Fish Hole and had watered, we mounted and headed back to headquarters. It had been a good Friday on the Miller Ranch in more ways than one.