We are scheduled to ship steers to Nevada to our summer range later this week. In preparation, the cowboys spent yesterday processing steers. Each steer needed a booster shot and a fly tag.

(How do you like the fancy table we have at our chute? Empty 50 gallon drums come in very handy around here. We much prefer if they are rusty in places and covered in mud or manure, as it adds to the ambiance of processing.)

Processing is a fairly quick job. These steers are waiting their turn to walk down the alley and into the chute. Our goal is to make the entire process as calm as possible. Things go much more smoothly if the steers are calm.

Each steer is in the chute for just a few seconds. Long enough for my husband and Andy to give the steer a booster shot and put a fly tag in his ear. Then the steer is released and trots into the pen with the rest of the steers.

While the cowboys were busy with the steers, I was busy chasing around the three-year old. Or rather, defending myself from a certain three-year old.

Our cowboys are always so nice to my son, they talk with him and play with him and give him things to play with. Things like sorting flags and ear taggers, which my son brandishes with glee.

After several minutes of protecting myself from unintentional blows from the sorting flag, I finally had to implement a new rule:

“Please do not arm the three-year old!”

The cowboys just laughed. For some reason, I’m a little nervous about what they are going to hand over to my three-year old next.