Feed The Bums

I must admit, when the Seamstress initially referred to me as her “City Slicker friend,” I was almost offended.

Almost.

Until I realized, sadly, how right she was. As my time on the Iverson Ranch drew on, it become alarmingly clear just how much of a city slicker I was. {Try as I might to hide it.}

It was during a random conversation where the term “feed the bums” came up. One thing I learned long ago, if I don’t know something, or am unclear about a term, I pipe up and ask. Only, I thought I knew what “feed the bums” was all about.

Where I come from, we may toss a few coins in the bum’s can, or offer them leftovers or random food items. It’s the least we can do, to help those less fortunate than ourselves.

Only on the ranch, “feeding the bums” means something different entirely.

Meet the bums.

A ranch bum = a motherless calf.

The bums get fed from a ginormous bottle twice per day until they are old enough to join the rest of the herd and eat grass and hay like all the other cows.

In my mind, this is what I envisioned when I was invited to feed the bums…we’d stroll into the pen, hold the bottle tenderly, while the sweet little bum suckled, and looked up at me with their gentle brown eyes. Much like a newborn baby. The human kind.

Only my vision is clearly the “Hollywood” version of what really happened once we entered the pen.

Can you say mayhem and chaos?

Those bums may be cute, but when it comes to feeding, no wimps are allowed. They jostle for position, buck their heads, and practically stampede for that bottle.

I’m not sure what I expected, perhaps a short “lesson” or simple instruction on what to do – something? – but from the moment that wooden gate latched behind us, it was every man for himself.

Bums were hungry and we were holding a bottle. Game on.

The entire “feeding” process was over in about 60 seconds flat.

When the bottles were empty, I was sweating, and covered in calf slime.

City slicker no more. I helped feed the bums. The ranching kind.

Thanks Craig for allowing me a real chance at feeding the bums.

That term will never hold the same meaning for me again.