Sal's little horse Wahoo came off the truck kicking at his belly and wanting to lie down. Never a good sign. Still, with work to be done we set about the business of ticking off the job list, returning to the yards later in the day to find him down and in considerable pain. Dad had the kids start walking him laps of the paddock, the most helpful remedy for colic, while we started ringing veterinary associates in the hope of procuring a shot of Flunixil, a relaxant often helpful in such cases. Finally tracking some down a couple of hours closer than the long drive home, the kids and I continued to walk Wahoo well into the cold, dark night waiting for the return of drug-running Dad. By the time of his return, Wahoo had improved considerably and after a shot in the backside, we left him for the night confident all would be well.
And so it was. With Wahoo back in the mustering team come Sunday, we hit a paddock of cows best described as rude, used to running from one end of the paddock to the other, chased with motorbikes, and no ability to be held and walked. With four eager, excited cowboy kids, a boss with a plan, and a Mum with a preference for latte-sipping and macaroon-tasting, we attacked.
Round One went to the bovines. With cows splitting into fourteen groups, Dad and his dogs doing the work of four men, Mum yelling at kids not to go out of a trot, with the paddock strewn with fallen timber, we managed to gather them on a fence and hold them, while Dad kept bringing extras into the mob. Sal declared these the worst cows she'd mustered in her life (she is six after all), and wondering why we hadn't brought more dogs. We managed to walk them in a most orderly fashion to the yards and set about preg-testing and cross-branding.
Wallace, looking decidly foreman-like, wearing the knife belt I made over twenty years ago, spent most of the day looking handsome.
Sarah handled the bookwork, trained dogs and groomed horses.
Jess found herself
in a tight spot.
We've left the horses up there and will return during the holidays for another lap. Meanwhile there's lucerne to be planted, weaners to be worked and a house to be cleaned. We love holidays. More workers.