The Wolves of Yellowstone

Don't Go Out Into the Woods

I rolled into our gravel driveway in my 98 Chevy 1500. I named my truck Stewart, he needed a name, it's also nice to call your truck something while your driving with road rage.

I drove down towards the horse barn, I needed to go on a nice trail ride to calm my nerves.

Once I got out of Stewart I head for the big barn doors. I opened the front one and walked to the back and opens the back door to get some air flow in the barn. It was summer and it gets hot in an old barn, we have big industrial fans laying around and a few smaller ones in the stalls. Still, with the fans, it doesn't get enough airflow sometimes. We used to keep the doors open all the time besides closing them for the night, but my father started making us close them and keep the livestock close because of the wolves. Though there hasn't been any loss of livestock over here my dad can't afford to lose any of our new livestock.

I head over to my horses stall and I already see his nose poking out

"Hey there Cash" I say as I pet his nose. Cash is my first horse, though I haven't had him long because we moved here and bought him from an older couple. Cash is 20 or so years old quarter horse. He has a beautiful brown coat with a black mane and tail. His mane is cut a little short then I would like along with his tail, but it'll grow out I guess.

I head over to the tack room and get everything thing I need from horse pick and combs along with the saddle and bridle. I set the saddle to the side and get to work.

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Once I finally got Cash all brushed down and tacked up and take him out of the barn and mount up. I start us off at a walk around the property checking the fences along with counting the head of livestock make sure I have all of them still in the pen.

After walk around a little bit more and notice that a section of fencing has been messed with. Or more like another cow got out. I hop down form cash and look closely at the fence and count the livestock again. I realize we're missing one of our yearling calves. I fix the fence and send a text to my father and mother.

"Looks like a yearling got out of the pin. Heading out to go look for him. Fixed the fence. Might need to get Bear to watch the cattle during the day." Bear was my dog, he's an Anatolian Shepherd, love that damn dog to death. He would finally have a use around the house instead of chasing chickens around if we finally make him a livestock guardian dog.

I start heading over to the barn, we keep a rifle in the barn along with a little handgun and a few pocket knives. When we're in bear country you need to protect you and your livestock if one were to come over and tried to attack. Though I'm not one that wants to pull the trigger on an animal, I would not hesitate if an animal was endangering my animals or anyone in general.

I put the handgun in a holster that is made for riding, so the holster wraps around my thigh for easy access. Then I grab the riding holster for the rifle. This one is hooked onto the saddle horn for easy access. I'm trained in hunter safety then after that, I took the class for bow hunting safety and then when I'm old enough I'll get my conceal and carry. So yeah I know what I'm doing and I'm doing it all safely, safety is key when it comes to guns. Then I walked over to the tack room and grabbed my saddle bag with emergency supplies and then I grabbed a couple of ropes.

Finally, Cash and I were ready to head into the woods, I mounted up and then clicked at Cash along with a kick with my heels. We started to canter up to the woods.

I start making some cow moo's trying to see if that would help. I know it probably sounds and looks ridicules but I didn't know what else to do, but I just ended up stopping after a few minutes.