Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Friday, May 23, 2014

Getting Badgered

Yes.
No.











The Stringam ranch sprawled out over many, many miles.
And took many hands to cover.
My Dad was twelve and had happily, and of necessity, joined the ranks of the ranch-employed aboard the first horse he could truly call his own.
The recently-broke and still fairly green, Queenie.
His pride and joy.
His first assignment was to keep an eye on the bulls.
I should point out, here, that the bulls were kept in the South pasture.
A vast, open field which went on forever.
With an outer fence that also went on forever.
Back to my story . . .
This fence had to be constantly patrolled.
On the other side of it were the Community Pastures.
Filled with . . . community cattle.
All female.
And none pregnant.
A state which their owners wished to preserve.
So someone had to explain to the bulls that any form of interaction was distinctly discouraged.
Hourly.
This was Dad's job. Make sure that the fence was doing its job.
Keeping the heifers on the one side . . .
And the bulls on the other.
But bulls are, after all, bulls.
And when the siren song goes off in their vicinity, they must answer.
With voice and/or action.
Usually action.
What's a paltry five lines of tightly-stretched barbed wire when love is calling to you from the other side?
They would ignore it as if it wasn't there.
And that's where Dad came in.
At a gallop.
Chase the bulls back.
Fix the fence.
He got pretty good at his job.
One day, he was riding along the fence.
Everything was unusually calm.
Then, something moved.
A brown head poked up out of the great sea of grass.
A brown head with darker brown stripes.
Badger.
Dad had never seen a badger close up.
He turned Queenie towards it.
It turned away from them and started off across the prairie.
They followed.
It ran faster.
They pursued faster.
After a few minutes of this, the badger had had enough . . . umm . . . badgering.
He turned and attacked.
Well. Hissed.
At this point, Queenie decided she was finished with this adventure.
Dad could go it alone.
She piled him, forceably, into the prairie dust.
And left him there.
Dad screamed and jumped to his feet, certain that his beloved horse had landed him on the badger.
Or near enough that the badger would soon be on him.
He pictured teeth and claws.
And ravening. He wasn't sure what that was, but it sounded nasty.
He looked frantically around.
Nothing.
The badger had disappeared completely.
He took a deep breath of relief, then recovered his horse and continued with his job.
Dad decided, then and there, that the only four-footed animals he and Queenie would chase would be the big ones with hoofs.
And horns.
They were safer.

16 comments:

  1. Oh my goodness, the labels on the pictures are too funny! Talk about succinct :) Great story (and thanks to your explanation the other day, we should ALL know what piled means :))

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Short and sweet, Jenny! :)
      Yep. Getting piled wasn't pleasant!

      Delete
  2. Oh I am so happy the Badger was scared off. I could have used your Dad watching my fences last spring when I had neighbour Limos bulls come for a visit. Did I Mention there are three RED Limo calves in with my pretty white calves:) I love the way you tell a story. B

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ugh! Neighbour's bulls . . .
      Several years ago, during one of our spring auctions, the auctioneer announced lunch at the ranch house. Great beef. Out of the neighbour's cow. But that was all right, it was by the Stringam's bull. So clever. In one statement, he maligned both our integrity and our fencing practices. Good thing he said it with a smile! :)

      Delete
  3. Sounds like Queenie had a lot of sense. Horse sense.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I've been wondering where that statement came from! Now I know! :)

      Delete
  4. I think Queenie had the right idea. Good thing your dad decided to follow suit.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Who knew badgers were so mean? Well, besides your dad, obviously! Have a great weekend.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. He told us kids to never corner a badger. Took us a while to find out how he knew . . .

      Delete
  6. Another good story; I always enjoy them.
    Blessings!

    ReplyDelete
  7. I've never seen a badger but they sure do look cute…except for those teeth!

    ReplyDelete
  8. I've never seen a badger, but I believe they can be tough little fighters when cornered. I'm glad Queenie didn't go back to the herd and leave your dad to walk back. Who knows how many bulls would have taken advantage of that time lapse in guarding.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. They probably would have attacked the fence en masse. Stupid bulls . . .

      Delete

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