Marabel The Worthless

Soooooo, I've been wanting to tell this story for a couple months now, but I haven't been sure how to go about it. It is equal parts sweet, funny, sad, and SO embarrassing. It's the kind of story that happened, but is never spoken about in our house.

Do you see that cow on the right? Her name is Marabel. She is 1000% worthless. She isn't even nice. She's not mean, either, but she isn't what one might call a "sweetheart".

You see, Marabel is the daughter of the cow on the left, Buttercup, our nurse cow. Marabel was raised as a very pampered child. Marabel spent her young days thinking she was queen of the ranch, and no one got around to telling her any different. This is where we first went wrong.

Marabel is two and this spring she lost her calf. We don't really know what happened, but my best guess is that she just walked away from it, because Marabel really likes to only focus on herself. (In her defense, her calf was a jersey calf that probably didn't even weigh 35 pounds, so it is possible that it was dead at birth. One will never know.)

Since Marabel is half jersey, it was our intention to have her join her mother as a nurse cow. We attempted to graft a calf on to her, but Marabel really wasn't interested in that. So the calf ended up being raised by her mother.

Around the middle of June, we sold our dry cows. Marabel simply had to go. She was a terrible mother and we don't have room for terrible mothers on our ranch.

As we were loading them, Marabel was being difficult. Remember, she has been pampered her entire life. She has never had to do hard things. Ever. She would NOT load in the trailer. My tender heart broke watching her panic and not knowing what to do. She looked so scared. My husband's heart did not break. He was even more determined that she had to go.

We finally got her loaded, got the brand inspection for 16 head, and Clay headed off in the truck with Marabel on board.

I burst into tears. I am rarely a crier, but here I was bawling for over an hour thinking about her. I texted my husband and told him how sad I was about her. Zero sympathy from him. But then about an hour later he calls me and asks if I want him to bring her home. I said no, she was worthless, it was the right thing to do to sell her. I just felt so bad for her. End of conversation.

Now, MDH (my dear/damn husband) is often equally my favorite and least favorite human. You can imagine the grind of navigating that relationship dynamic. But in this situation, he read between the lines. He knows me very well.

And guess what? We sold 15 dries that day. Marabel just got to take a little joy ride to the sale barn and back. MDH was not happy about it, but he didn't push it. He said she was the very last one off the trailer at the sale barn and she sorted herself off and ran BACK onto the trailer without him even having to go get her.

So yeah, I would love to tell you Marabel has a new lease on life and is changing her ways, but she's still as entitled as she ever was, still freeloading, and will still probably be coming up dry five years from now or making her mother raise her calf. But I'm grateful that we can make space for just one cow who maybe doesn't deserve it. And most of all, I'm grateful to be married to a man who cusses me and Marabel all the way to the sale barn and back, but loaded her up anyway, because he knows and loves me. This life can break your heart and fill it up in the same breath. And Marabel is just the ridiculous reminder of both.