Wonderin Where the Lions Are

Report from the Four Corners:
Booker's calf has been found.

Booker (short for Ubukwele) is queen of our dairy herd. From time to time she asserts the royal prerogative. Like, when there's a gap in the home pasture fencing.

This year, she asserted her self with Tango, the neighbor's bull. Thirty-eight weeks later, she was delivered of a handsome Hereford-Shorthorn crossbreed bull calf.

Now, we think the world of Booker and wish her every happiness but these matches must be carefully planned and even, uh, chaperoned. Romance, even a one-night stand, between lovers who tip the scale at a half to three-quarters ton per each is not a thing to be undertaken lightly. Know what I mean?

And, although one hates to bring up the subject of money where love is concerned, there's a fair amount of cash and income at stake with these critters. Even at current depressed milk prices, Booker will turn over three to four thousand a year. Dollars, that is.

Our dairy herd is only twelve milking cows. Then, there's a couple more freshening and a couple more resting. This is not the Ponderosa, you know. Even if you are not a dairy farmer, you can do the math. Losing Booker's production for the time it takes to wean her calf is a significant loss of income.

But, true love will not be denied. Booker dotes on her calf, Booker T, as do the rest of us. Booker T cause his mama is Booker and his daddy is Tango. Get it?

He's a cutie; full of hijinks and, despite his mixed breeding or, maybe, because of it, shows every promise of being a handsome and muscular prince of the herd.

Rather, he did show promise. Booker's calf disappeared a week ago. Booker has been inconsolable ever since, bawling for her little one at all hours. She does not eat and drinks only a little. She can't even bring up a cud. My niece had to stick a dishrag in her mouth to give her something to work on.

Then, about a day ago, Booker T's remains turned up. They were lodged in a Red Pine, about 20' off the ground. That is lion sign.

Officially, there are no lions around here. Officially.

The old timers say different. Every once in awhile you hear about someone coming across lion sign; scat or blazes on a tree, stuff like that. Myself, I've never seen anything like that and I've been up and down all these canyons and washes.

There are plenty of lion in northern Colorado, of course. They've even been seen in the Denver suburbs, dining on Labradors and German Shepherds. I think it was only last spring that a lion was treed in the backyard of a home in Golden CO, home of Coors Beer.

The Front Range habitat is much different than the San Juan range, though. A lot more cover for a big animal like the Mountain Lion. Here, even the well watered slopes are kind of sparse. Lion are notoriously shy creatures and do not like to move across exposed country of any kind.

Still, hard to imagine what else could hoist a hundred plus pound carcass up into the tree canopy. As if poor markets, depressed prices, down gates, and lovestruck cows weren't enough problems for a hard working dairyman. Now I got to wonder where the lions are.