Vince, the cattle operator, was due soon to fix a hole in the fence near the watertank. Since the corral gate was open and almost directly downhill from the steer, and I was standing above the steer, I called my son on my cell phone and asked him to help me shoo the tangled steer into the corral.
Soon Vince arrived and I filled him in. He had his grandson, Hunter, and Zip the cowdog with him. They set out to fix the fence first and I decided to ignore the dishes and add compost to my earthworm bins on the side of the barn where I could keep an eye on the corral and the cowboys.
Hunter was holding his ground on the road; every time the steers turned his way, he emphatically gestured "stop".
As the steer made a dash up the slope, Vince grabbed the dragging line. Hunter follows suit.
Tug of war.
Occasionally, Vince would utter a quiet command to Zip and the cowdog would work around the steer or face him off to keep him going in the right direction.
Tug of war.
The steer charged down the slope and Vince shortened the line, but then the steer reared up on two feet above him. The steer started dragging the cowboys down the road and Hunter tumbled down. Vince realized the telephone wire may have exposed wires at the end that would rip his ungloved hands and he let go. As the red steer dashed off again with the telephone wire bouncing behind him, Vince decided that the cow fishing would have to continue on another day.
Coming soon: another day of dishes and cattle wrangling, plus I get an ATV stuck.