An integral part of who I am.  On the left a wild cow milking after the branding and on the right an iron horse collar used to ensure an exact fit when the horse shows signs of "galling" due to an inexact fit. Harness collars are usually made in "standard" sizes and not made to fit an individual horse. All those who have bought "Small" "Medium" or "Large" coat will understand that their coat fit just as well as the horse collar fit the horse. These are the only Penalty pics I have but there are many more in the collection below.             I’ve mentioned in several places that I spent some time repairing fence, putting up hay, herding cattle, stooking (grain) bundles, riding the range and other work associated with agriculture in Western Canada . The most memorable of those jobs was four months during the summer of 1964 on the Penalty Ranch. I herded 21 Hereford bulls the summer before on a neighboring ranch and have helped o...

No (for some of the younger) this is not a post about talking to some un-likable person by hand. It’s about separating cereal grain from the (ripe) dry plant in a manner in many areas prior to 1955 and in some places well into the 1970s. My Uncle Sam cut and bundled about 8 acres on the front of the field next to his house and my cousins and their children stooked (standing the bundles up so they will continue to ripen and dry) it. With the help of many friends who also have heavy draft horses and some wagons a threshing was held on Sept. 20, 2014 . I didn't actually count them but there was well over 100 people in attendance, helping, watching, and either evoking memories or building new ones. Here are a few pictures from the day. There was also a team of tough little Fjords there hauling children (and the occassional adult) around but for some reason that picture does not want to down-load. Here's a pretty paint team bringing in another load of oat bundle...

            Earlier I mentioned the sources of the cattle that made their way to British Columbia and the Canadian Prairies or the North West Territories as they where called at the time. Also mentioned earlier, was that during the first fifteen years the beef business was growing in British Columbia the NWT didn’t have cattle because the Prairies were full of Buffalo though in the north these herds were already diminishing rapidly.           Along the west coast of North America the cattle business had been building for more than two hundred years. Black Spanish cattle had been brought to California from both Mexico and by ship from Spain . North of there the heavier cattle or Shorthorns brought west from the mid-west and eastern States primarily during the 1840s and 50s where well established. These two west coast communities where relatively close to each other in relation...

The 17th day of December and I’m driving in rain at 8ºC. (That’s 46º F for you metrically challenged folk.) I didn’t like it! The windows in the truck would allow a view for no more a few moments. We shouldn’t have muck for Christmas. I would be much happier with - 15º C ( 5º) until about March 5th when it should warm up and dry up in about a month. Which also won’t happen. Since one can’t do anything about the weather except grin and bear it (or perhaps that should be grin and bare it.) I decided to construct a little rhyme as I was hauling fuel down the road. The melody to “Jingle Bells” should work. Racing through the rain In a Razor Custom quad. Goin’ to the neighbours place For turkey, ham and grog. From toddies smooth and rich We wound up in the ditch We’ll have to get the horses out To pull us from this bog Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells There they come right now The off horse is a little shy They’re both as fat as sows. Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells They’ll do the job just fine Back...

I can't tell you how Alvin's doing. It's been a while since I seen him. You see, Alvin and I don't spend too much time together. Not like we used to. It goes back to that time we went up to Carter's to help them round up their cattle. Looking' back, I reckon I was a bit rough on him, but I thought he had a better sense of humor. There was about ten of us who volunteered to help out. Neighbors rode over on horseback, and some hauled their horses in from as far as fifty miles away. I don't have a truck or trailer, so I rode with Alvin, our mounts in his two-horse trailer. Most of us got there the night before, a Friday it was, so that we'd be ready t' get started early Saturday. 'Course, the early start was a bit rough on most of us since, once we got a place for our bedrolls, most of us spent the night over a few drinks, playing' cards and swapping yarns. But despite how tough a few felt that next morning we were all out there gathering...

Janet almost smiled. Perhaps there was a way. The fire was still burning, though down to a few coals when they rode up to the rustler’s camp. Gabe picked her up by the waist, leaned over and set her on the ground. "I'll see to the horses," he said. Rolley and Squeak dismounted and handed him their reins. Gabe rode off into the brush. "Why, you must be real hungry, Ma'am," Squeak said. "We was just about to make up some bannock an' we got some deer left that Gabe shot. You just set over there on that log an' I'll whip it up." He was all nervous gestures and toothless grin. Inwardly, Janet shuddered over the filth of the man, but she smiled back and said, "That would be very nice." "Squeak, go an' sit down an' shut up," Rolley said gruffly. "You're makin' a fool o' yerself. This little filly's gonna be our cook from now on." Sulking, Squeak dropped down onto the...

I have a collection of 17 short stories that I'm hoping to have published in the near future. Since I seem to be having trouble maintaining my schedule of posts at the present time, I believe I'll post one of those stories in a serielized version on this blog. I've been a little more busy than I like over the past few months and expected a slight slow down in the fuel distribution business this spring, which has transpired. However, even though I'm home a little bit earlier these past few days, now there are all those things to do around here that where not done when there was several feet of snow on the ground. So here is the first instalment of "The Yearlings" which I originally constructed in 2005 and is the sole property of David M. McGowan. The Yearlings By D.M. McGowan The horse and rider came through the deep cut in the hill, following the trail of the yearling steers. It wasn't a difficult task, the cloven hooves having left a well-marked path in t...