Life in a Nutshell

My Last Shot of Bourbon

November 1993

"Hey Dolly, if you ain't got nothing goin' on this mornin', I gotta a job for you."

My dad looked at me over his breakfast mug of coffee. His eyes sparkled a little too brightly, but I didn't think much of it.

I was home from college for Thanksgiving break that fall. I was nineteen, between boyfriends and enjoying the time with my family, knowing full well these days were fast coming to an end.

A few months later my parents separated. Mom was injured on the job the year prior and the ranch refused her worker's comp claims because she wasn't a 'paid' employee.

However, when a ranch hires a couple or a family, it's an unwritten rule that the wife works too. To refuse is to engender a sense of ungratefulness and invite social isolation.

But that all fell away when she herniated a disc being thrown from a horse and had severe sciatica down one leg for months and years afterward. It only got worse, to the point she could hardly move. Plus, there was no money or medical insurance to have it treated.

With the destruction of her health, came the destruction of their marriage.

My dad made a terrible decision that year that he regretted until he died. He didn't stand by her or defend her from his employers, and then she said she needed to move closer to town so she could get a job and receive medical care and therapy.

He refused to go with her, or even help her. He even refused to stand up with her in court when she took the ranch to small claims to assist with her medical bills. She lost the case and any sense of self-worth for several years afterward. It broke her heart.

He abandoned her when she needed him most. The booze, and his cowboy reputation won instead of his family, and years later after he was sober, he could never forgive himself.

But this winter day occurred well before that all went down.

It was a crisp frosty November morning. The day before Thanksgiving, and mom had made pancakes and eggs, while the turkey was brining. It was a slow morning, and we watched the sun come up through the plate glass window that looked out over the stubbled alfalfa field.

"Sure, Dad, what do you have in mind?"

"I gotta move two-hundred pair out of the back allotment to the calving grounds near the barn. I could sure use your help."

In November, the mama cows were pregnant with their early spring calves, but still had the yearlings hanging on. During the winter months, the cattle were brought down to the feeding grounds where the big round bales of fragrant alfalfa were rolled out every morning to the hungry masses like a buffet, to prepare the heifers and mamas for an unforgiving and cold calving season. Two hundred pair was actually four hundred animals. Adults, and almost adults. It was a good size herd and definitely too much for one person to push alone.

"You want me to ride with you?" My shock at the request was not surprising. I put my cup of honeyed tea down on the table with a splash.

He knew I wasn't all that interested in following in his line of work. I was an artist, a soft sentimental fool with a liking for romance novels and fairytales.

I was not a cowgirl.

But I had been raised as one, and I loved riding my horse Snip, when I was in high school. He had been my many times over my teen years. Snip had found a new home when I went away for school the year prior, so I didn't know who I was going to ride. Dad could tell I was a little concerned.

"Yeah, you'll be fine, most of the guys are away for Thanksgiving, and I'll give you Bourbon."

Bourbon.