This is just one of the many reasons that I am glad to have Gary Foster as my father. I know, a picture of a saucy little bull-calf doesn't do much for most of you, but I had the opportunity to go help my dad work calves Saturday. I always did like "cutting" and "running" calves from the herd and down the chute, the thrill of maybe getting kicked in the 'nads, or having one of them get too far ahead of you and turning around and charging you. Mostly they are harmless, but mostly they aren't this cute and adorable as in this picture. Last year, they were closer to a 1,000 pounds and I sustained a limp for most of a week and ripped up my jacket.
Anyway, I have all these great memories as a kid working hard with my dad and my brother (sometimes friends like Mike or Andrew), both in the heat and in the cold, and often in the slopping mud/manure mix. We worked hard and had fun, laughing at each other when one of us got hurt, calling each other insulting names for showing that it hurt, like "Twinkie," but watched each other closely to make sure nobody actually got destroyed. I remember one time my brother had his nose literally completely smashed flat to the rest of his face by a fluke shot from a big calf running past him. Another time, he probably saved my life from getting crushed and trampled after I got pinned in between a rather large and upset cow and the chute for long enough and hard enough that I couldn't breathe for quite a while and would have gone down. He had the presence of mind to jump up and lift me up from above while the cow finally was able to squeeze on past. Still another time, a cow got in the chute while dad wasn't paying attention and charged the head-gate, knocking it shut, swinging the pipe handle right into dad's ribs. I don't ever remember another time my dad needing to "take a knee." I can't help laughing just remembering it.
But the most rewarding part of last week was that I took my boys with me and we worked together with Grandfather. Not that I've never taken my boys with me before to do this, but this time they both are old enough that we WORKED together. We were a team! I had Isaiah (13) do his share of running the calves for the first time, and he was nervous about it at first, but he LOVED it after he realized you have to use your head as well as your body, gotta watch those little buggers and not get run over. Stu (10) did a great job of keeping us supplied with all the tools and equipment and keeping track of the bull/heifer information, really watching what was going on. Isaiah did get one calf that turned on him and tried to mow him down (the biggest one, of course) and he took on a little bruising, of which we were all very proud. I just appreciate the opportunity to show my kids how to work, how to hustle, keep sharp, and have fun doing it. Sometimes I think, why would I put my kids in that dangerous position? Because they learn to work, and dad-gum it, they better learn to pay attention. The danger makes it such a thrill to work with cattle, but working with your family makes it that much more thrilling. I could go on and on about other reasons that I am proud to be Gary's son as well, but this is going to have to do for now... :)
