She’s content spending each day caring for her calf, grazing, munching a mouthful of hay, or chewing her cud. That is, until Papa shows up with her favorite treat in hand. That’s when “Sopracciglia Bianca” (Italian for “white eyebrows”) loses all control. Whether the scent of the oatmeal cookie or my calling with a cookie in Read More >
Sometimes curiosity wins. Our church’s youth group worked hard in the intense Texas heat to scrape and paint the Cross-Dubya’s pipe fencing over the two days they were here. As the team shared, listened, learned and laughed—a few managing to get more paint on them than the fence—all had a good time. On Saturday evening, Read More >
One thousand five hundred four feet of 2 7/8-inch drill stem, posts eight-foot on center and sunk five-foot deep; each encased in 160 pounds of concrete. Welded top-rail and a sucker rod bottom join each post to the other. We welded the 16-foot heavy-gauge steel panels across top, bottom, and sides. Standing five-feet tall, let Read More >
On the lam. Off the reservation. Outside the wire. Any time a rancher hears these three words, or worse, a rancher’s wife early Sunday morning, it’s going to be a long day. All these phrases mean the same thing; “Your cow’s out!” And any way you say it that means work. Oh, I suppose my Read More >
Putting on my sage old rancher hat, here’s an axiom I hope you’ll remember; “Your destination is determined by who’s driving.” The greatest lesson I’ve learned since starting the Cross-Dubya ranch is the calmer you remain, the easier it is to get to where you want to go. Whether that’s driving cows into the barn Read More >
“Rocky” the calf (yep, old “milk-mouth” himself) is a pain in the tuchus. A few weeks ago, he decided he would slip through a loose area in the fence between pastures and go visit the fellas over in the other field. The fellas are yearling steers who are being gained to prepare for moving to Read More >