Excerpts from My Time at the Ranch

Alexandra Ina
UC Davis undergraduate, 4th year
Major: Environmental Science and Management

Lilly and Cal.

My Work- Life- Ranch Balance
College life is no walk in the park. It is a chaotic, fast paced sprint where you are always trying to keep up. Entering my fourth year at Davis has brought me new and daunting challenges, as I tackle writing a thesis, finishing my classes, and a new data collection position in a lab! Not to mention, the reality of finishing college is starting to sink in, and it is overwhelming to face the vast uncertainty of what lies ahead. But amid all this chaos, I have found an unexpected sense of peace at the ranch. While there is always work to be done--mucking, walking, feeding, and mucking again, I find solace in caring for these animals I have bonded with over the past few months. I have found it fascinating to communicate with them, pick up on their behaviors, and understand their needs.

My Shadow
My favorite development over the past few months is my evolving relationship with Cal, one of the goats. Naturally he was very skeptical of me at first. One day, I spent a significant amount of time sitting with him, giving him attention and head scratches. This time changed our relationship (I must have scratched the perfect spot). Now, every shift when I muck the goats’ enclosure, I find myself with a shadow. There he always is, silently following me around as I work. In the times I linger in one spot, I feel him nibbling on my hoodie, trying to grab my attention. When I turn around, there he stands, with the top of his head angled at me, coaxing me to scratch his head. I always have to tell him that I will sit and give him proper attention once I finish cleaning, but he is persistent. He will follow me around until I finish cleaning. Once I am finally done, I sit with him and scratch his head and neck. Cal is particular though. When he is satisfied with me scratching behind his ear he will pull back and give me an incredulous look as if I should already know that he wants his neck scratched. It is a funny routine we have developed, and I am eager to see how our communication will continue to grow.

Cal and Lilly, the goats, and Care Bear, the mini pig (Jellybean in the background)

It Takes a Village
A takeaway I have discovered since becoming familiar with the ranch is just how essential collaboration is. I am comfortable working independently and am confident in my ability to complete tasks on my own. However, even when a task seems like something that I could manage alone, the animals always find a way to challenge me, making it necessary to rely on others. I remember a day after a storm when we were finally able to take the mini horses for a short walk. Randy and Olivia had the courage to jump over the small moat that had formed, excited to graze. But on the way back, Randy was stubbornly glued to the opposite side of the puddle. He refused to budge. I pleaded with him to walk through or hop over the puddle spot but he would not move. I tried coaxing him with grass and the promise of lots of scratches, but nothing worked, and I stood defeated in the mud. We decided to bring in the expert-- Claire. She brought over a bowl of treats to slowly guide him across the mud. It made me realize that nothing I did on my own would have lured him back over. He needed a whole cheer squad and lots of treats from Claire to make it over. Observing Claire interact with Randy reminded me that when working with animals, patience is necessary. Even though there are a hundred things to get done, sometimes all the animals need is time and support. It is a really overlooked quality and one that requires practice, and I think my patience grows every day I go to the ranch. 

Mary and Randy relaxing.

To My Surprise 
One thing I didn't expect when starting this internship was the sporadic yet profound feeling of accomplishment. Because caregiving is an ongoing, continuous task, I did not expect to feel this. However, to my surprise, there have been moments that have left me feeling triumphant. The first time I went on a successful walk with the goats felt like a victory considering how timid they were. Every time I am able to scratch Olivia without her shying away, it feels rewarding. I think what makes these moments special is that they are not always immediately obvious. The feeling of progress and gaining trust is incremental. But when I feel these moments of trust, it helps me realize that I am making a meaningful impact. These mundane moments are quiet victories that I find especially valuable.

It is easy to get swept up in the whirlwind of school, work, and a social life. But once I am at the ranch this chaos morphs into…well, a different kind of chaos, especially when Memphis and Randy are running away, evading me as I attempt to bring them back from the field. Everyday stress becomes fleeting and fades. Every day I am at the ranch I am given the rare opportunity to feel grounded and present, learning from the animals, and deepening our connections in ways I never expected. It is a comforting fulfillment that is becoming more and more important to me.

The skills I am honing at the ranch--patience, collaboration, and emotional fulfillment--are essential tools that I can use in my present and future goals. These insights will help me face challenges, strengthen relationships, and find fulfillment in what I do. Whether it is in my academic, professional, or personal life, these are lessons that can guide me towards success.

Mary and Memphis in the rain.