There Are A Few Cowboys Left In America: Where are the Cowboys When Needed?

I have part interest in a small farm with about 45 acres of pasture which we lease out to a local cattleman. He uses our land to feed about 30 heifers and three bulls and we call it the honeymoon suite as he hopes the bunch will mate and the heifers will become pregnant. He always brings an older cow to advise the younger ones how to act around a bull. About three months ago the older cow found a break in the fence and left the compound and spent the better part of August and September grazing on soybeans. One night she was up by the road and I walked her, me behind, her in front with no moon and an underpowered LED flashlight for about a mile to the pasture. I got near the gate and she flanked me to the right and was gone again.

My neighbors came three times to report seeing her on the road, a dangerous situation for both man and animal, but the cow was too clever to be coaxed with feed or herding back onto the compound. One rainy day in November the cattleman came and took all the other cows and bulls away and left the outlier for a later capture date hoping she would stay off the highways. I would see her from time to time in my pasture next to the bean field or some times she would come up to the house and eat the grass there. She stayed hidden behind a hill about a half mile south of the house and came up only in the safety of darkness.

I called the cattleman and said I was planning to hire a couple of cowboys to wrangle the wayward cow before she got hurt or hurt someone on the road. The local stockyard gave me Randall's name and phone number and I contacted him. He has a pal who rides and ropes just such problems and they are very reasonably priced. They came out yesterday and I will try to describe the capture.

Randall, a pleasant fellow, with a round face, missing both upper incisors, with a ruddy complexion, capped by a full head of salt and peppered hair, probably about 45 years old, and his friend, whose name I did not catch, but I judged him to be near forty, arrived at my house at about 8:30 yesterday morning in a Dodge diesel pick-up truck pulling a four horse trailer with two brown Quarter horses, both bridled, saddled and ready to go.

We exchanged small talk and I pointed out where I believed the cow spent her days. They mounted their steads and rode off in that direction. They crested the hill and were out of my sight for about 5 minutes and then movement, a half mile away, the white faced black cow is seen running along the hill through the broom sage. She is headed towards the road which is about a half mile further north of her location.

When she breaks off the hillside and into the bean field her footing becomes less stable from the rains we had the night before last and she turns east and is headed back to the pasture which is about 3/4 mile away. Horsemen appear shortly after her appearance and the race is on. Randall is closing in on the cow's left flank, I see him pull his rope, swinging it overhead, he makes a throw, a miss. Meanwhile, Randall's partner comes up on the cow's right flank, and the cow, having run for about half a mile by now, is tiring. She suddenly slows to walk and the cowboy and horse pass her and she turns north again heading for the house and my position.

I do not recall which rider got the first rope on her but in no time there are two ropes on the cow and she is caught. A short struggle ensues, but the cow soon sees the futility in resistance and she gives up the struggle. They are able to walk her up to a horse trailer I had borrowed from my sister and we got her into the trailer, but she was not happy. Unfortunately one of the ropes had snagged her ear tag and there was a nasty rip in her ear. Otherwise, she came through the excitement pretty much unscathed.

After she was locked up safely into my trailer, I paid Randall his fee and he and his pal loaded up their horses and drove away. The entire event lasted about 30 minutes and it was more entertaining than the best episode of the Kardashian's, but from what I have seen, that TV series has bigger horses' asses than the ones I saw on those Quarter horses.

I called my cattleman pal and informed him of the successful capture. I drove her the 25 miles to her winter feed lot at the cattleman's father's farm and we backed up to a coral and opened the gate of the trailer and she walked off as calmly as you please. Her freedom was over for now.

I thank God everyday there are cows like that and cowboys like Randall and his pal. I am even feeling a bit more charitable towards the Kardashians if that is how you spell their name?

Wouldn't it be wonderful if for every problem we encounter there was a problem solver as great, and yet, as simple as Randall and his horse?

There is. We just have to look for it and be bold enough to act when we know we need a "Randall" to get this mess resolved.

Our Congress has far, far to many Kardashians and way to few Randalls. Perhaps 2014 will find fewer of the former and more of the latter in congress.

Jackson Delano Maybolt, President Urban Poverty Law Center