Stone Broke Ranch . . .

In 1993, Larry and I decided that our Galleria condo in Houston just wasn't going to cut it any longer.  We began spending our Sunday afternoon's driving the back roads looking for a place to build our "dream house".  We found in Cypress, a little five acre tract that would give us an opportunity to stretch our legs somewhere other than Memorial Park.  Talk of the latest movies at the theater and the newest restaurant on Richmond were replaced.  Our conversations took on talk of cows, chickens and what we would like to plant in a garden.  Our mini weekend vacations were suddenly traded for trips to the property to clear the land and plant the trees.  The lunches we had shared in cozy cafes were now being spent on the tailgate of the truck; talking about all the things we wanted to do with our land as we munched on soggy sandwiches.

Finally after months of watching and waiting, our "dream house" was finally completed.  We quickly began turning the back yard into a pasture for the menagerie yet to come.  Larry being a devoted Aggie and all, I was a little apprehensive about disclosing to him my life long desire to own a Texas Longhorn.  Actually, he handled the idea rather well.  But, first I had to commit to helping him run the fences for a pasture.  Poor man never had a chance.  Every spare moment I had him out digging post holes and running wire.  His weekends on the golf course were quickly becoming a faded memory.  His business suit and ruined manicures were soon exchanged for boots, jeans and a good pair of leather gloves.  He quickly began to realize exactly how many of your body parts you could actually inflict pain upon.  After many hours, days and weeks, the final gate was hung and the left over wire stashed somewhere behind the chicken coop.  The long awaited time had come for us to start the search for "a" longhorn to make her home in our new pasture.

It wasn't long before we realized that finding a longhorn wasn't exactly an easy task.  There wasn't a listing in the yellow pages, nor could we find longhorns in the classifieds.  After making fools of ourselves when what we thought were longhorns were actually Watusi, we decided not to expose ourselves to any future humiliation by doing our searching via telephone first.  Finally, a call to the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo Association headed me in the right direction with a list of names and phone numbers.  After hours of phone calls (those longhorn breeders talked more than I do and that is a challenge) I felt that I had finally found exactly what I was looking for.  Don & Lois Huber, Bent Oak Ranch, gave me the directions to their place in Montgomery and off I went.  I was so excited, I forgot to wait for or even call Larry.  The next time he heard from me was on my way home and declaring that I had found my "perfect" cow.  I pulled off the road to tell him my story of how this cow had broken from the heard and came right up to the fence where I was standing to accept a nugget from me.  He had to listen to at least fifteen minutes of how perfect she was and how she must have known she was supposed to be mine.   Bless his heart!  With his blessing I made a quick u-turn and headed back to the Huber's.  With check in hand I closed the deal on my first head.  Then the realization that I was going to need a way to get her home kicked in.  Of course, we didn't own a trailer and she certainly wasn't going to take too kindly to riding home in the back seat of my Taurus.  But good fortune that day was on my side as Mr. Huber came to my rescue and offered to deliver her to our pasture on Saturday.

There weren't may quiet moments around our house for the next few days.  All I could think or talk about was bringing Angeline home.  Since a child, while waiting for Christmas or a birthday, three days haven't seemed so long.  I have to admit that bringing Angeline home ran a very close second to bringing home my first born!  But, we'll keep that fact between us.  Being the novices that we are, it wasn't until she was actually in the pasture that we realized that cows need food and a place to drink.  A quick visit with our neighbor got us the directions to the closest feed store.  Soon Angeline was munching on hay and nuggets and drinking from her bucket.  Yep!  That's what I said, bucket.  After some serious observation, we realized that a cow drinks an awful lot of water.  It certainly wasn't going to work to haul water out to her in a bucket every few hours.  Back to the feed store and home with a trough. 

Our garage filled quickly with hay, feed and other absolutely have to have's to care for our new pet.  A week later, Larry decided Angeline was lonely and it was back to the Huber's to pick up Moonbeam as a companion for her.  For awhile, a very short while, watching the girls graze from our breakfast room window and spending our evenings petting and brushing until it was a miracle they still had any hair on their hide was enough.  Angeline presented us with her first calf the day after Christmas that year.  For a couple of city slickers, Holly was the most amazing thing we had ever seen.  It was freezing but the best was all that was good enough for our first calf.  Soon I was heating beach towels in the dryer and running them to the back of the pasture to wrap our new baby in.  Thank goodness Angeline had a sense of humor!  I won't deny that she gave us a few strange looks.  I like to think that since this was her first calf that she didn't know this wasn't how it was supposed to be done and  thought this was perfectly normal behavior when caring for a new calf. 

Off to the computer and emails went out to everyone we knew and maybe a few we didn't announcing our new arrival.  First time parents couldn't have been prouder than we were that day.

After the arrival of Holly, it was like a strange addiction kicked in for both Larry and myself.  We didn't pass a pasture without checking for longhorns.  As new members to TLBAA, it seemed forever between issues of the Trails.  We spent hours coveting the longhorns in the magazine.

We had learned a lot by this time of what was required to care for our herd.  So, up went a barn and then we tackled the cross fencing.  Additional water lines were run and we started buying hay and feed by the truck loads.  Those trips to the feed store were getting more and more expensive.  One day Larry announced that "my" longhorns were going to run us into bankruptcy!  Hence the name, Stone Broke Ranch.  Over the next few years we added a head or two to our herd now and then.  Gradually the pasture was filling up.

The time had come for us to decide exactly where we were going with this longhorn thing. Our pasture could no longer support the number of longhorns we already had and the thought of not being able to continue increasing our herd was out of the question.  So, it was off again, running back roads and scanning the papers on the weekends for land.

After many miles and twice as many hours we finally settled on a couple hundred acres in Cameron, Texas.  It didn't take much convincing to ourselves that the hundred mile drive each way would not be a problem as long has we had a place to keep our cattle.  Of course, this meant more fencing!  Larry was so excited! 

We invested in a used Ford tractor and Larry set out to learn how to clear the woods and hoped the end result would be something that at the very least resembled a pasture.  With the utmost confidence in his ability to handle his "new" tractor, Larry headed into the woods.  My final words to him were "beware of false bottoms".    With a nod and smile, and looking like a little boy with a new toy on Christmas morning he was on his way to conquer the brush and the brambles.  Not knowing that he had absolutely no idea what a false bottom was, I settled myself into a chair by the lake with a good Dean Koontz novel.  Now, I don't know what you guys call it but I was told by my grandparents that "false bottoms" are common on land that hasn't been worked in a while.  That at the bottom of a hill and especially under trees, the ground can get very soft and camouflaged by fallen leaves.  If you've had any rain, the ground won't support you and if you sink a tractor in a false bottom, you might have to wait until the ground dries to dig it out.  Well, you've probably guessed it.  The next sound I heard coming from the direction Larry had headed was a disgusting sucking sound followed by a strong expletive coming from Larry's lips.  I didn't need anyone to tell me what had just happened.  I tried, I promise I did, not to still be laughing when I got to where Larry was standing.  He wasn't a happy camper when I found him knee deep in mud under that big old post oak.  Now if you know me, you know that I couldn't pass up this opportunity to express an "I told you so".  I'm sure you can figure out for yourself that that was the last thing Larry needed to hear from me.  I should have left it alone when he exclaimed "How was I supposed to know what the hell a false bottom was?"  Keep my mouth shut?  No way.  Not me.  I had to remind him that if he didn't know he should have asked.

The next hour or so was spent hauling limbs or rocks or whatever we could find to put under the tires of that old tractor.  No matter what we tried it seemed that the tires were sinking deeper and deeper.  It finally became obvious that we were going to need some help.  A trip down to our nearest neighbors proved fruitful.  Mr. Williams just happened to have a big old Cat that would do the job for pulling Larry and his tractor out of the bog.  It wasn't long before Larry and the tractor were sitting on stable ground.  Deciding to call it a day we headed for the truck and home.  I swear I can still hear Mr. Williams laughing all the way home over the roar of the engine of his Cat.

It's been over six years since we brought Angeline home.  I won't pretend or tell you that everything we've done has been done right the first or even the second or third time.  But everything we have done has been a true learning experience. The time we have spent caring for our longhorns and the stories we have to share with our friends and family, whether they want to hear them again or not, are irreplaceable.  Even with fifty-nine and counting head now, each new calf is still anticipated and greeted with the same excitement as the first.  The most valuable knowledge we have acquired is the one thing that didn't take us long to learn.  In our travels and working with our longhorns, we have had the great opportunity to meet so many wonderful people.  We have learned that longhorn breeders are one of a kind.  That the devotion (or obsession as many would claim) to preserving and promoting this breed is amazing.  When we have needed guidance on how to handle the many situations we have faced, help has always been a phone call away.  The many breeders we have met and depend on are always eager to lend an ear and offer their advice.  It is because of them that we have been successful in our efforts to produce a herd of longhorns that we could be and are proud of.  It is with great pride that we find ourselves members of the longhorn breeders family.

A friend once ask why we choose to raise longhorns.  That with the many breeds of cattle around why didn't we raise Black Angus or some other type of cattle; that when she looked in our pasture all the different colors there reminded her of a patchwork quilt.  I had to tell her "Yes it does!  Isn't it wonderful."  I did let her know that I could see an advantage to raising cattle such as Black Angus.  You would never need to own more than one since you would already know what the rest are going to look like.

Larry and I just about have all the fences in on the new place.  The new barn goes up after the first of the year.  So, once again the perfect spot has been chosen for our "dream house".  Our dream of spending our evenings sitting on the porch and relishing the sight of these beautiful and exquisite creatures is finally just over the horizon.

But, it was our granddaughter Morgan that really made me realize something about dreams coming true.  It was while we were running around on the four wheeler at the country one weekend.  We turned down the road and headed for the hill that our longhorns like to gather and graze on in the evening.  With the sun setting behind them, they all seemed to turn and watch us come up the hill.  I stopped the four wheeler and told her to look up the hill.  The moment her eyes took in the view that was before us, she squealed with delight!  "Oh my goodness what a beautiful sight!  We are so lucky to see this!"  It was then that I realized that even though that porch is a good ways away from being ready for us to sit on; without us being aware of it; our dream had already come true.  It was just going to have to be from the seat of this old four wheeler for a little while longer .

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