Another peculiarity of ranch life is that where there are hundreds or, perhaps, thousands of cows in a herd, not a single cow is milked, nor is a cup of milk or pound of butter ever seen upon the ranch table. It is altogether different on Hooker's ranch. There is a separate herd of milch cows in charge of a man whose duty it is to keep the table supplied with plenty of fresh milk and butter. No milk ever goes to waste. If there is a surplus it is fed to the calves, pigs and poultry.
During the branding season the work of the round-up is all done in corrals instead of, as formerly, out upon the open range. Each calf after it is branded, if it is old and strong enough to wean, is taken from the cow and turned into a separate pasture. It prevents the weak mother cow from being dragged to death by a strong sucking calf and saves the pampered calf from dying of blackleg by a timely change of diet.
Instead of classing the cattle out on the open range as is the usual custom, by an original system of corrals, gates and chutes the cattle are much more easily and quickly classified without any cruelty or injury inflicted upon either man or beast. Classing cattle at a round-up by the old method is a hard and often cruel process, that requires a small army of both men and horses and is always rough and severe on the men, horses and cattle.
Besides the herds of sleek cattle, there are also horses galore, enough to do all of the work on the ranch as well as for pleasure riding and driving. There is likewise a kennel of fine greyhounds that are the Colonel's special pride. His cattle, horses and dogs are all of the best, as he believes in thoroughbreds and has no use whatever for scrubs of either the human or brute kind.
The dogs are fond of their master and lavish their caresses on him with almost human affection. In the morning when they meet him at the door Ketchum pokes his nose into one of his master's half open hands and Killum performs the same act with the other hand. Blackie nips him playfully on the leg while Dash and the rest of the pack race about like mad, trying to express the exuberance of their joy.
In the bunch is little Bob, the fox terrier, who tries hard but is not always able to keep up with the hounds in a race. He is active and gets over the ground lively for a small dog, but in a long chase is completely distanced and outclassed to his apparent disgust. Aside from the fine sport that the dogs afford, they are useful in keeping the place clear of all kinds of "varmints" such as coyotes, skunks and wild cats.
How much Col. Hooker appreciates his dogs is best illustrated by an incident. One morning after greeting the dogs at the door, he was heard to remark sotto voce.
"Well, if everybody on the ranch is cross, my dogs always greet me with a smile."
There appears to be much in the dog as well as in the horse that is human, and the trio are capable of forming attachments for each other that only death can part.
The ranch house is a one-story adobe structure built in the Spanish style of a rectangle, with all the doors opening upon a central court. It is large and commodious, is elegantly furnished and supplied with every modern convenience. It affords every needed comfort for a family and is in striking contrast with the common ranch house of the range that is minus every luxury and often barely furnishes the necessaries of life.