Arrival on the Ranch

Coming in to Montana after driving through Yellowstone, we were all ready to get going on the ranch.  It was a long, beautiful drive, but this is what we had been waiting for.  After miles of rolling green hills, we turned on to a dirt road parallel to a rolling river.  As we turned into the ranch, my first reaction was unexpected.  A collection of outbuildings and a small house was surrounded by piles of old vehicles, equipment, and mud puddles after a quick rain.  There was no grand entrance, no sign of organization, just what looked like a tired farm yard.  Then a very authentic looking cowboy moseyed into the driveway and welcomed us into the world of ranching.  We told him we were looking for Wanda and he told us we would be staying over yonder, pointing toward a falling down shack.  Mom and I looked at each other and silently panicked a bit.  What did we do?  

It was the girls who stopped and said, "Don't judge a book by its cover, Mom" and that wisdom carried us far.  Turns out he was really pointing us across the road.  Wanda came out and introduced herself.  She is a force of nature herself, a tough woman who runs her ranch without apology.  She hopped into her 4 wheel buggy and told us to follow her to the cabin.  Just a tenth of a mile down the road, a gorgeous 3 bedroom cabin became our home for the next week.  It was spacious, with light everywhere, and sat 15 feet from the river's edge.  A sunny deck provides a place to sit and listen to the river sing all day and night.  Now we breathed some relief and waited to see some animals.

After settling in, Dana, a woman staying in the next door room met us and we walked back to the barn to get instructions on what the daily chores would be.  There, we met two raucous boys, JT and Tristan, who are Wanda's grandsons.  They were sent out of the house to shake hands and say hello, and they dutifully did so.  It did not take long, though, for them to realize it might be interesting to explain the chores to two cute girls.  So we got a show of the barn with very little explanation, but a healthy portion of wrestling and showing off.  

These chores ended up being one of our favorite parts.  Every morning and evening, we went to bottle feed two calves and a lamb.  We learned that as they suckle, every 20 seconds or so they bang the bottle with their heads to promote milk flow.  This one little boy calf was very good at this move, so we named him Butthead.  Just out of comparison, the other became Cutie Pie, but I think Butthead was secretly the favorite.  He would snuggle right up to your side and suck on your fingers for comfort.  I think if we let him he would tuck himself into our beds!  He was so sweet, and it was very special to get so close to a baby animal who would otherwise be far away in a pasture and much more inaccessible.

What a reminder that all creatures just want to be close and comforted and safe...and of course fed!

Another favorite is Edison, one of the goats.  In the big herd of goats, this one became JT and Tristan's pet because of his amazingly gregarious personality.  He was born on Thomas Edison's birthday, which is how he got his name, but he acted like the greeter to the pastures.  He would separate from the herd to come say hello, see what was up, and then catch back up.  What a wonderful smile he has!

Then there were lambs.  This one was not yet strong enough to get away from predators so he was kept in with his Mama to grow a bit.  Tiny told us his biggest predator would be eagles!  Things you don't think about!

Also in the barn were innumerable cats.  No one seemed to know the total number of any of the animals.  But we did see something like 4 or 5 teeny kittens.  Even Callie, who is not a cat lover, couldn't resist these cute faces.  It was easy to bring them cream each morning.

 

The hardest chore was always the chicken coop.  There was a mean rooster in there who liked to lunge at people, so one person, usually Mishka, would grab a stick and bang it on the wall to get the chickens to move away.  Then we would go in, dump scraps and grain, and go into a dark coop to collect whatever eggs were laid.  There was one hen who literally did not move from the laying box the whole week.  I faced my fears and stuck my hand under her to grab eggs.  That is not a pleasant feeling, knocking my knuckles against her bones and feathers while she tried to peck at my wrist.  But I did get braver as the week went on.  At one point, Callie found the chicken skeleton under the boxes, which had obviously been there a long time.  She did NOT like that part.  Haha.  I think the chickens became a character building exercise for us.  

Overall, chores became a great way to bookend our days.  The girls got up very early to be there and say hello to their friends.  It made the day purposeful and productive, knowing someone depended on us for sustenance.  It was very special.  

This introduction set us up for one of the best weeks of my life.