"He usually did."
The ranch hand looked toward the mesquite trees.
Then back at the bull.
"So what's the plan?"
"First, we keep him isolated and let the veterinarian assess him. No contact with the rest of the herd, and no moving equipment between groups without proper precautions."
The man nodded.
"And the ticks?"
"We get them identified and follow the treatment plan. I don't want to guess at what species we're dealing with or what diseases he might be carrying."
The ranch hand looked surprised.
"You've already called the vet?"
"Before I bid."
He smiled.
"Good."
Claire glanced toward the trees again.
"And there's something else I want to watch for."
"What?"
"Birds."
The older man's smile faded.
He stared at her.
"Birds?"
She nodded.
"Caracaras."
He looked toward the bull.
Then toward the sky.
"Miss Claire, that animal needs more than birds."
"I know."
"Your grandfather taught you to watch nature, but he would've called the vet too."
Claire smiled.
"That's why I already did."
The ranch hand relaxed.
Then he looked at the bull again.
"Well, if the birds want a meal, they've got enough to keep them busy."
Claire didn't answer.
She was remembering a morning twenty years earlier.
She had been four years old, riding beside her grandfather in an old pickup as they checked fences after a summer storm.
A crested caracara landed beside a group of cattle.
Her grandfather stopped the truck.
"Watch that bird, sweetheart."
She pressed her face against the window.
The bird approached a cow.
It moved carefully, studying the animal.
Then it picked at something near the cow's shoulder.
Claire had asked what it was doing.
Her grandfather explained that certain birds sometimes fed on insects and parasites associated with livestock, although their behavior varied and the birds weren't a substitute for proper animal care.
Claire had been fascinated.
"Does the cow like it?"
Her grandfather laughed.
"Sometimes the cow tolerates it. Sometimes the bird gets chased away."
She watched the caracara flutter to the ground.
Then her grandfather said something she never forgot.
"Nature doesn't replace responsibility, Claire. It reminds us to pay attention."
The words returned to her now.
She didn't expect birds to cure the bull.
The infestation was too extensive.
But the old mesquite corridors had supported caracaras for generations, and she wanted to see whether the birds still interacted with cattle the way her grandfather remembered.