Tails from the Pasture: A Homestead-ish Mystery

I recently got a strange—and honestly a little disturbing—photo from our neighbors,

accompanied by a text that read, and I quote: “Are ya’ll missing a yak tail? Our dog just found it at our neighbor’s house. Haha.”

The tail in question

Um... what now?

My husband and I exchanged wide-eyed glances and made a beeline for the pasture. The entire length of a yak's tail is fluffy, unlike the photo, so we weren't exactly panicked, but definitely on alert. Because who knows what kind of tail-shaving weirdos are out there?

Hubby grabbed some cattle cubes to lure the yaks close so we could take a proper look, and I grabbed my trusty kayak paddle—because you never know when you might need some self-defense against a yak who decides to get spicy. It happens. More than I'd like to admit.

The first two yaks we spotted were Shasta and Jolene; they both have white tails so we knew the tail in question couldn't belong to either of them. Moving toward the back of the pasture, we found the duo we were really curious about: Uma and Ricky Baker. They were peacefully grazing and looked perfectly content, which was a good sign—but we had to be sure.

As soon as Eric pulled the treats from his pocket, their eyes locked onto him with laser-like precision and they started moving in. As they practically mauled Eric for treats, I slipped quietly behind them for a better look. Thankfully, both their tails were still perfectly intact. Instant relief washed over me, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

So, our animals were safe and sound—praise Jesus! But the mystery remained: Where did that tail come from?

Tail inspection. They passed.