Boys In The Meadow

The Mulloy ranch has a way of captivating you. Located in the Western Panhandle of Nebraska, 10,000 acres of vast rolling Sandhills, herds of Black Angus, bands of horses, cow dogs, hayfields - it’s the real-deal. 

Last October my wife and I asked our son Ritter what he was hoping for his birthday. He promptly replied: “I want to have my birthday on the ranch” He has second cousins there he loves as well as friends from nearby ranches and towns. All-in-all it turned out to include 18 adults and around 36 kids. Quite the party to fill up the one-room community center in Angora, NE (Population: 3) with most patrons living on farms and ranches nearby. His birthday was great but did not hold a handle to the story that comes next…

The call to duty:
The first morning we woke to a cold frost. Uncle Charles had gone out to feed the yearling heifers only to find they had broke through the fence and were in the wrong meadow. My son Ritter, his cousin Brekken and I were groggily getting dressed for the day when my aunt Carmen busts through the basement door. “Ritter! Lloyd! Brekken! I need your help, follow me. Charles needs our help.”

Side note: Ritter and Brekken are first cousins born within one month of each other. Best friends from birth. Ritter lives in Colorado and Brekken lives in Minnesota. Several times per year, the families meet either in South Dakota or Nebraska for hunting, fishing, camping or ranching adventures.

Back to the story…

We follow aunt Carmen outside to find two 4-wheelers ready to go. Carmen and Brekken hop on one, Ritter and I hop on the other. We ripped out to the north meadow where the heifers had run. There were about 50 of them in the herd ¾ of which we found right away. We bee lined it to the group and then split at the last minute to circle around the herd.

I didn’t realize it at first but Carmen had also called her border Collie/Australian Shepherd cow dog “brownie“ Who rode on her four wheeler somehow clinging and gripping and not falling off despite the bouncing over the rough Nebraska terrain. At the right moment, brownie jumped off the four wheeler and sprinted to gather up the cattle. He worked in unison with our two 4 wheelers to steer the group back toward the gate, methodically flanking, zig-zagging back and forth and nipping heifer heels when one would drop back.

To add to the excitement, the meadow had received record amounts of rain this year resulting in standing water the equivalent of large lakes over several hundred acres a rich hay ground - full of brome, bluestem and gramma grasses. Maneuvering the herd through the dry “land bridges“ We trailed them back toward the gate. On one occasion, Ritter and I were moving a group of 6 down a thin land bridge only to have the lead heifer dive head first into 16 inches of water camouflaged by the tall grass. Thankfully, the bunch of 6 turned around and lead us away from that booby-trap.

Next was negotiating the gate itself - cattle will naturally flow to the point of least resistance (down hills, into valleys, into openings in the land, etc) This is all good and well until they come to a small opening (ie the gate) leading them to a smaller pasture with less freedom and open-range than the beautiful hay-pasture they were just enjoying minutes ago...Needless to say, they freaked-out at the gate and made a run for it! Past the gate, down a thin land-bridge trying to get back to freedom. 

If I ever wanted to show my son what a hero looks like...this is my chance! With the sound of the thundering stampede and motors revving, I raced my 4-wheeler back out in front of the herd to cut them off. 

Brownie gathered the flank.

Carmen held back to funnel them back to the gate….Together we were a well-organized squad.

As the herd calmed, they saw that the gate was their best option and filed on through. Uncle Charles waiting on the other side with their nutrient dense bales and supplemental feed which they would need as they would soon be bred to calve.  

The recap:

Cousin Brekken, with his hair blown, frost-nipped cheeks and snotty nose looks at Ritter and says,

“That was...AWESOME!”

“I know!!” replied Ritter.

The two boys threw their heads back and laughed. They just had one of the most authentic adventures that you can’t plan. Only God knew that was coming. My hope is that the memory forged in this adventure will not be forgotten...and if it is forgotten, I hope it because they have so many others that are just as memorable.

Ritter then looks at me and says, “Dad, in addition to playing professional baseball for the Colorado Rockies, I think I’m going to live on the ranch.” I thought...yep - that would be a dream come true for both of us!

Lloyd Blackler 
Restoration Project Advocate
Fort Collins, Colorado