A Tribute

“I’d rather spend ten seconds in the saddle than spend a lifetime watching fom the stands”

Twenty years ago, Elaine and I were regular attendees of the National Western Stock Show. Niether one of us could be considered “western” people, but we did chase one of my dad’s calves that escaped the corral, and Elaine owned a Shetland pony.

It was at the NWSS that I met a yak/bison rancher from Kalispell, Montana. The rancher was a meat breeder, but somehow Elaine got him talking about yak hair/fiber. As I recall she even ended up knitting this guy yak mittens.

Being llama owners, construction workers, powerline designers, knitters, and meat eaters it was easy to get interested in yaks. Sadly, the time wasn’t right.

A couple of years later, Elaine and I attended the NWSS with some friends. We walked through the livestock exhibits, horses, cattle, as well as the exotics livestock, including yaks. As the group walked through the exibits, I excused myself and went back to the yak exhibits. I had seen something that intrigued me and I needed to satisfy my curiosity.

In one of the yak pens, a teenage girl was bottle feeding a baby yak.

“I’d rather spend ten seconds in the saddle than spend a lifetime watching from the stands.”

Me: Is that yak for sale?

Girl: It could be we would need to ask my dad

Me: let’s ask

Dad: I’ll sell it.

Me: How much?

Dad: $750

Me: I”m here with friends in their car, if you will hold the yak until tomorrow when I can get back with a trailer I’ll take it.

Dad: If you can pick it up by tomorrow noon, we have a deal.

Me: I see you have two babies, how much are they if I take both.

Dad: I am not discounting either one.

I wrote a check for $1500 and went back to join our group.

Friend: Where did you go?

Me: I went back to buy a yak.

Friend : You bought a yak?

Me: Well , actually I bought two

We didn’t own yak feeding bottles, yak baby formulas or halters but I owned two baby yaks that I needed to pick up by noon.

This is the story of Mac (2nd yak) and Cheese (1st yak)

I don’t recall who named the yaks But his has the smell of the twins all over it. Maybe Elaine and Ivy were involved. For clarification purposes Mac was basically all black and Cheese was 50/50 black and white.

As bottle fed babies neither yak displayed any personllity traits. The two of them just ate, pooped, and walked around. As they grew up a little, Cheese started to get a little aggressive…….to everyone but me, Cheese loved me and I loved Cheese.

Cheese did not love Elaine. He showed his feelings for Elaine by shoving her into the corral fence, injuring her knee. It wasn’t the best decision Cheese could have made because in Elaine’s eyes, Cheese became a meat Yak and was no longer a fiber animal. I might have been able to intervene on his behalf but he decided to chase Boy Twin. Boy Twin was able to jump into the livestock trailer to avoid being trampled or gored.

Cheese earned a trip to the slaughterhouse. His hide hangs on a wall at Girl Twin’s, his skull hangs on a wall at our home.

Mac was a different story. I don’t think he liked or disliked anyone. He tolerated everyone. As he got bigger he demanded respect and space just considering his size. Mac liked to be left alone surrounded by his llama buddies, but he would allow Elaine to harvest his undercoat every spring, satisfying Elaine’s fiber fixations.

Mac’s even tempered demeanor earned him a lifetime position on our ranch. There were/are other yaks at our ranch, Franks, JBC, Wendy, and Small Frys, but Mac and Cheese were the first.

Frank’s was also a bottle fed baby. Again, I’m not sure where his name came from, but it ended up being the wrong name. He should have been named Diablo. We might have bottle fed him too much and too long. He grew to be the size of an American Bison and just as mean. He ended up being the meanest animal to walk the earth. I think he could have fought a tyrannosaurus rex to a draw. He never met a human or a fence he liked.

Franks was sold to a restaurant, where he was turned into steaks. The restaurant owner allowed me to keep his skull, which hangs on a wall at Girl Twin’s. His hide is in storage at our house. BTW, it is for sale.

Last Sunday, I was filling the water tank for the yaks. Mac was lying next to the corral fence. Something looked strange. I thought maybe he had a leg stuck in the fence. I checked, he didn’t. I looked a little closer. Mac was breathiing strangely. It sounded like when your dad (or mom) is snoring. He didn’t look good in the eyes.

I went to the house to get Elaine for another opinion on what could possibly be wrong with Mac. When were returned Mac was dead.

Mac lived a good life of average length. He didn’t get eaten, which I am sure pleased him. Needless to say, we miss him. His skull will hang on the wall next to Cheese.

I share the story because I thought some of you would enjoy it, but mostly because I like telling stories. I plagiarized a couple lines in the story, which makes me eligible to run for president. Thanks, Chris

God Bless, Love ya, Eat yak (or knit their fiber)

Our crazy lives!

Monner