News Articles
Life Along the Banks: Cow Rescue on the River
Posted on Nov 8th, 2013
As I idled in for a closer look, Wendy said, "Hi, Snickers. It's me again. We're here to help."
"Snickers?" I asked. "Yes", she said. "I named her already."
"You know", I said, "there used to be a candy bar called Black Cow. Wouldn't that have been a better fit?"
"Before my time", she said. Ouch!
About this time we heard rustling brush and commotion above us. I started to back away, worried one of Snickers' friends might be about to descend upon us. We were relieved to see a cowboy hat appear. Under it was a wiry old guy named Ed, and he was accompanied by a daughter, a nephew, and one other cow hand. Ed's son-in-law had been dispatched to get a boat and they wanted to know if there was still a ramp at Highway 35. I gave them the bad news that it was removed 8 years ago or more, and that the nearest public ramp was at FM 521. That guaranteed no boat would arrive before dark.
So, I took Wendy back to the house and returned to see what help I could offer from the water. For the next hour, we tried everything we could think of to coax Snickers down river about 100 yards to a small creek where she might be able to walk out. First we tried herding her with the Waverunner. It turned out to be a miserable cutting horse. Then nephew lassoed her and we tried pulling her into the river for a swim down to the creek. Nothing doing. After an hour of bolting just a few yards up and down the river bank, it was dark, we were frustrated, my noisy steed and my new friends and I were covered with mud and scratches, and a very tired Snickers was back on her ledge.
In the end, the cowpokes fetched some feed for Snickers and spent the night there trying to keep her calm and rested. When I went back the next afternoon to check on her, I found a trench had been dug, apparently by hand, to form a steep ramp up the river bank. It must have provided just enough incline for Snickers to gain some footing and climb out, because she was no longer on her small ledge.
When all was said and done, Snickers was safe and sound, Wendy had a tall Texas tale to share with her city slicker friends back in L.A., and we had one more reason to rue the day TxDOT took away the only boat ramp on the upper part of the river.
"You know", I said, "there used to be a candy bar called Black Cow. Wouldn't that have been a better fit?"
"Before my time", she said. Ouch!
About this time we heard rustling brush and commotion above us. I started to back away, worried one of Snickers' friends might be about to descend upon us. We were relieved to see a cowboy hat appear. Under it was a wiry old guy named Ed, and he was accompanied by a daughter, a nephew, and one other cow hand. Ed's son-in-law had been dispatched to get a boat and they wanted to know if there was still a ramp at Highway 35. I gave them the bad news that it was removed 8 years ago or more, and that the nearest public ramp was at FM 521. That guaranteed no boat would arrive before dark.
So, I took Wendy back to the house and returned to see what help I could offer from the water. For the next hour, we tried everything we could think of to coax Snickers down river about 100 yards to a small creek where she might be able to walk out. First we tried herding her with the Waverunner. It turned out to be a miserable cutting horse. Then nephew lassoed her and we tried pulling her into the river for a swim down to the creek. Nothing doing. After an hour of bolting just a few yards up and down the river bank, it was dark, we were frustrated, my noisy steed and my new friends and I were covered with mud and scratches, and a very tired Snickers was back on her ledge.
In the end, the cowpokes fetched some feed for Snickers and spent the night there trying to keep her calm and rested. When I went back the next afternoon to check on her, I found a trench had been dug, apparently by hand, to form a steep ramp up the river bank. It must have provided just enough incline for Snickers to gain some footing and climb out, because she was no longer on her small ledge.
When all was said and done, Snickers was safe and sound, Wendy had a tall Texas tale to share with her city slicker friends back in L.A., and we had one more reason to rue the day TxDOT took away the only boat ramp on the upper part of the river.
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