The Great Flood: When it Rains, it Yaks

Whew. We just got through a doozy of a rainstorm — three straight days of nonstop downpour. The river jumped its banks, roads turned into rivers, and there were home evacuations, school closures, and a general sense of muddy mayhem. Parts of town got hit hard. There were even news crews here from Denver, which is wild because our little town usually doesn’t make it onto anyone’s radar ever.

While there was definitely damage, things could have been worse — way worse — so praise God they weren’t!

Our own property got a taste of the chaos, too. We have a seasonal pond that’s been bone dry all year thanks to the drought. Then, practically overnight, it turned into a full-on lake. The rain just kept coming, the pond swelled, overflowed the dam, and spilled into the neighbor’s yard like it was a real estate tycoon expanding its portfolio. By morning, the entire pasture was under water.

And there, right in the middle of it all, stood Jolene — our yak — happily wading in belly-

deep water, with her flowing hair swirling, like she was auditioning for Yak Week on Discovery Channel.

Jolene was the first one in

She had options. There was still plenty of higher ground to stand on. But no. Jolene apparently decided she was now an aquatic species and fully committed to it.

It didn't take long for a few of the other yaks and, finally, our mini-ish cow to join her. The whole crew looked like a bunch of friends at a pool party, hanging out and having a good time, possibly gossiping about the horses down the street.

It didn't take long for her friends to join her

Then I got a text from a concerned neighbor. She’d driven past earlier, noticed the bovine beach party, and saw they were still out there when she came home a couple of hours later. She was worried they might be stuck in the mud (and that I, their clearly unfit human, was just leaving them there to perish). I assured her they were fine — just enjoying a spontaneous spa day — and thanked her for keeping an eye on our soggy herd.

Meanwhile, I’m standing at the window, looking at my yak-shaped mermaids, and realizing: the pond has swallowed almost everything in sight, the pasture looks like a rice paddy, and my to-do list is weighing on me heavily. Because while Jolene might be living her best amphibious life, May Belle (our very pregnant cow) is due to calve soon — and I still don’t have a shelter built.

So now, while the water is high and the yaks are frolicking, I’m out here Googling “DIY loafing shed ideas for people who don’t know what they’re doing but need it done by tomorrow.”

Wish me luck.