Well, if they are at least four tight strands, aren’t rusted to oblivion with gaping holes in them.  You see, I think my neighbors are confused.  There are barely any places that still have “open-range”.  In that wide-open country, sage brush, juniper bushes and grass grows as far as the eye can see – not a jacked up asphalt road.  Or my driveway for that matter.

The life and, sometimes, livelihood of a rancher is in many ways dependant on your neighbors.  In fact, it’s one of the aspects that drew me into this life.  People will come from all over just to help you out.  Be it brandings, gatherings, building things – they’ll be there with just a phone call.  Eh, apparently not so much in this neck of the woods in some cases, but everywhere else I’ve ever seen.  It was so foreign to me.  I mean, of course I would give my neighbor the obligatory cup of sugar, but help you move or do something that could lead to a single bead of sweat?  I’m pretty sure I have a very important hair appointment. 

Paul will drop everything if a neighbor calls and needs help, even if we are in the middle of dinner or it’s 4:00 am.  I’ve seen him drive a bulldozer into a fire to protect someone else’s land and animals because living in such a remote location doesn’t lead to quick response from emergency services.  Don’t get me wrong, of course we should help in any way possible, but watching him drive into that smoke with my oversized Gucci horse-bit sunglasses on (he’s too old-school cowboy to own a pair) was at once hysterical and terrifying.  We can drive in another state and come upon cattle on the road and we will take hours to find their owners and get the animals back to where they belong.  And, yes, this usually happens when my bladder is about to burst.

There’s kind of an unwritten rule about neighboring livestock, if you find something out, put it back.  Or, if you’re unsure of the owner, bring it in, feed it and call around to see who is missing something – let them know it’s okay and they can come get it when they’re ready.  No big deal, just the way it is.

When the property across from us sold, I have to say we were a little upset.  It’s 140 acres and we actually tried to lease it immediately, but the owner was wishy-washy for close to a month, so we just gave up.  We kept our eye on the place as the price kept dropping – he was really high to begin with.  Shortly before summer, we began noticing a slick, white Caddy parked on the road quite often.  It stuck out like, well, a white Caddy on a remote county road where only trucks with loud diesel engines roam.  Finally, our neighbors to the West of us said the property had been sold.  Sniffle.  We just knew it wouldn’t sell and then we could scoop it up at some point. 

Shortly after, a few head of cattle began to appear.  Not the best looking bunch, according to my husband, the cattle snob, but hey, they’re theirs, right?  Since there’s no dwelling on the property, the chance to introduce ourselves never really came.  But, finally, one Sunday afternoon, our new neighbors stopped by.  Now, Sundays aren’t really a good day for me.  You’re lucky if I take a shower by 4:00 pm, if at all.  At least I had a really cute maxi patio dress on - although, at this point, it’s really more like a nightgown.  And no, there was no bra accompanying it.  My hair had the imprint of the couch and I’m pretty sure there was some dried-on drool making it’s way down my chin.  So, yeah, not really a good look for a first-impression.  But, the new neighbors were really nice.  They came from Texas and this would be their retirement property as they are both in their late 60s - they would run a few cows and relax.  Sounds good to me.  In fact, they already seemed relaxed. 

More and more pairs began to arrive at their place.  Almost as quickly, our phone began to ring with the need for help in reigning in some wily cows that had gotten out.  No problem, that’s what neighbors do.  Paul would immediately gather them up and help get them back in.  Sometimes it would only be one or two and I started to wonder why they needed help with that.  We all know my aversion to doing ranchy things, but at least I would have tried myself before I called someone else.  And they have a ranch.  With cattle.  Shouldn’t they be able to handle them, let alone one or two? 

When they finally had their herd together, they had 100 pairs total.  100 pairs on 140 acres isn’t a good ratio, especially when at least 60 acres of that is pretty much weeds.  In this country, we do have some of the best grass there is.  Some ranches can get a 1:1 average, meaning one cow per one acre.  But, that’s really an unrealistic number.  With what we have here, we could have a 1:2 – one cow per every two acres, but that’s almost unbelievable.  And it’s not how we manage the place.  Right now at our home location of 170 acres, we have 50 for a 1:3.5 ratio and our leases carry the rest of our herd.  Now, cows may not be the smartest things, but I might jump out on the road that the county doesn’t mow too. 

The first thing Paul did when we bought this place was to go around all the fences, even the ones running through trees.  If it was imperfect, he fixed it.  If it looked shabby, he restrung some barbed wire.  If a fence was down, he put a new one up.  The neighbors?  Apparently, not so much.  When Paul would put their cattle back in, he would let them know where it got out.  On many occasions, he just fixed it for them.   They both have health problems and the blazing heat of the summer started so early this year.  We both thought it was best just to help them as opposed to someone having a stroke.  However, this would become an almost daily occurrence.

Then came the neighbors’ talk of theft.  They were missing cows and they knew they were stolen.  Yes, I’m sure that’s it.  You have cattle out almost everyday, but now someone was old-school rustling them?  Give me a break.  Except that, with this economy, cattle theft has been a huge issue for ranchers.  It’s a quick sale for someone and while we brand our animals, Oklahoma doesn’t have a brand law – meaning you don’t have to and there are no checks done at the time of sale. 

The first instance of “theft” was three calves.  Paul, going on what he was told, believed them because a mother cow and calf wouldn’t naturally stray from the other.  That is to say that if a calf got off the property, the mother would follow or they would each bawl like crazy until they were reunited.  Neither happened.  Our neighbor showed Paul where his fence was down and it appeared like a man-made situation.  Paul said, “Well, let’s get this put back up.”  Our neighbor said, “We’ll get it later.”  Huh?  Your cattle are being stolen and you don’t care to give them even a minor deterrence?  You don’t care if the rest of your cattle go through a downed fence? 

Paul said they needed to call the Sheriff immediately to report it.  Our neighbor didn’t want to.  He said something about his insurance not being active yet.  Now, here’s the weird thing about cattle and insurance – you can’t physically insure an animal like you can, say, a tractor or the contents of your house.  I don’t understand it because those animals are my physical inventory and if I lose one, I’ve lost a sale basically.  Paul tried to explain that when one person has a theft, we are all in danger of the same.  But, our neighbor just kinda blew it off.  A radar was going off in my head, but I just didn’t know which one yet.

Needless to say, Paul and I had sleepless nights thinking there are cattle rustlers on the loose.  For months.  During those months, we would receive a phone call or knock on the door just about every night – as soon as we sat down for dinner – about cows being on the road, on other neighbors’ property, or confusion over whose cows they were.  Obligingly, Paul always stopped what he was doing to round up the rogue animals.  Talks of fixing their fences went unheard.  I found them to be completely irresponsible and honestly was getting pissed.  A few times, we received calls thinking they were our cows.  So, Paul would go out, look for the animals, not find anything because they had gone back on their own, and then spend hours going through and counting our cows in the dark because we needed to be sure.  Ugh.

One night, a guy down the road called and told us they found an abandoned 4-wheeler in the bar ditch beside the neighbors’ fence.  When they reported it, the sheriff told them that it had been stolen.  Well, that’s weird.  We thought they stole it and then it ran out of gas before they could get it home.  What do you know?  The next day, our neighbor called saying he had some more calves stolen and he had tracks he wanted Paul to look at.  He went over and there were apparently 4-wheeler tracks and the fence appeared to be tampered with.  He told Paul that day that they’ve had over 17 calves stolen.  17!  While that may not seem like a lot, it is when your herd is 100 as theirs is.  That’s no less than $10,000 missing.  Paul was shocked and convinced him to call the sheriff right then.

I don’t want to make it seem like Paul cares about the animals and I only care about my dinner, but I just wasn’t buying their story.  They have a 4-wheeler – couldn’t those tracks be theirs?  When the sheriff came, Paul didn’t hear how many cows were reported missing along with the calves, but he thought he heard 10 or so.  This was crazy.  You have that many animals “stolen” and you don’t call the authorities until now?  That evening, our neighbor to the west called us because they had a cow in their yard.  Shocking.  So, Paul went to put it back in and our neighbors happened to be at their gate at the same time.  Paul helped them get the animal back where it belonged and then they said it, “We just did a count and we’re only two pair short.”  WHAT??  When Paul came home, he was just shaking his head.  All he could say was, “You’re right, Julie.  You were right, you were right.”  Now, I love hearing this, but I hadn’t slept for months it seems, so I wasn’t in the mood for gloating.  I asked if they counted the one he took back.  No.  So, in total, they were missing one cow and two calves.  One of those calves was a leppy (a calf that didn’t have a mother).  So, logically, a cow and a calf made a break for it and the other calf followed.

Why these people never did a count to begin with is beyond me.  “We’re missing 3, now 17, now 10 more.”  How irresponsible are you?  Blaming other neighbors for theft, stirring up everyone surrounding you and giving your neighbors sleepless nights isn’t the best way to manage a cattle ranch or be a part of a community for that matter. 

So, here’s my advice for anyone thinking they want to try out this business:  Management of your grass is imperative – don’t overstock your ranch, unless you plan on feeding them everyday.  Count your cattle, especially if you think something is missing.  Don’t rely on your neighbors for free labor.  Respect that we are all out in the middle of nowhere for the same reason and we all have things to do on our own places.  If you need us, we will be there, but let’s not be greedy.  And for heaven’s sake, build a freaking fence.  Repair it.  String some new wire, plant a new post – I don’t care, just contain your animals.