"No, you first."
"No, I insist. You first."
As I sat on the 4-wheeler and waited for the heifers to make the decision to walk through the gate and onto the road, I imagined that conversation between these lady friends.
I suppose it's rather ironic, if you think about it from their perspective. Usually, the silly humans want them to stay inside the fence. And then, suddenly, they are supposed to walk right through it.
The heifers were admittedly reluctant to leave the confines of the Peace Creek pasture. We had first attempted the heifer round-up on October 13. Two weeks later, we finally got them to play follow the leader, or, in this case, follow the pickup.
Jake was the Pied Piper of heifers as he coaxed the first-time mamas with hay and range cubes in the back of the pickup. Randy and I brought up the rear on the 4-wheelers.
Once they got to gate, they took their own sweet time going through it, even though Jake kept trying to encourage them with an afternoon snack. But, once they did, my photographic evidence of the cattle round-up came to a quick halt. I may be a talented helper (if I do say so myself), but I'm not a good enough 4-wheeler driver to chase cattle and take photos at the same time, especially when it involves going up and down ditches to try and get the little ladies to move a half-mile down the road to the corral.
Phase I of the mission was accomplished. Next up: An appointment with the vet. (Maybe that's why they didn't want to go through the gate. Nothing against the medical profession, but you know how we drag our feet about doctor's appointments.)