Father's Day · Gate Duty

Father’s Day on Mount Mee began at the gate, because that is where steady people stand.

Gate duty, said Spike. Not glamorous. Necessary. Someone holds the latch so the rest of the farm can move safe.

Suzy sat in the gateway the way she always does when the job is holding space. Soft eye out. Soft eye in. Thank-you to the humans who do gate duty in houses and sheds and school runs — Dads, and anyone who fathers by showing up.

Canberra brought the line to the gap. London waited her turn. Spike escorted the edges so nobody spilled. Little Thunder stayed calm — mahogany, orange poll, no shove on a thanks morning.

Harare, Beijing, Tokyo, Moscow, Paris, Denver, Nairobi, Manila — all passed or watched with cattle sense, no Cap plots, just farm cast doing a simple move well.

Chooks ignored Father’s Day and laid opinions anyway. Sheep followed a wool-warm order. Goats tested the hinge; Suzy said the hinge is not a toy. Quails left and returned on schedule.

Spike told the kids: gate duty is checking the water after, too. It is closing what you opened. It is being the calm body at the gap when someone else is learning.

Suzy added: say thank-you with a job help — one latch, one tidy tool, one soft eye when Dad is tired.

They held the gate through a whole quiet muster and then sat, proud in the puppy way.

Happy Father’s Day the farm way. Put gate duty in your Farm Keeper folder. Visit Mount Mee and notice who stands where the cattle need a yes.

Hold the latch. Steady watch. Thank-you.