Posted 3/28/12 (Wed)
There is a country song that talks about ranching. Goes something like “not a broke horse on the place, the pickup truck won’t run” and then on to talk about “the wind is on a high.” And I tell you what, as I’m writing this article, the wind is on a high! Forecasting winds of 30 to 40 and gusts to 60 mph. That’ll teach you not to pee into the wind!
We’re kind of getting down to the end of that heifer-calving deal I told you about. You remember. Those bred heifers that I bought in December that were to calf in March. There were thirteen in that bunch. Eleven calved in January. Then I had three I bought at the same sale that were to calf on Feb. 28th. At the time I thought, “That’s all right. I’ll be done in March.”
So I have eleven January calves. As of yesterday, two March calves. And it looks like I should have two Aprils and a May. Just letting the cattle buyers know, the calves out of my heifers will tend to be a little uneven!
Remember a few years ago, when I forgot to tell Shirley about that cow I had locked in the barn that was on the hook. And that night when Shirley was doing chores she just walked into that pen like she was feeding Molly, the milk cow. I guess her mind had drifted off a little thinking about politics or something. That old cow let out a bellow and blew snot all over the back of Shirley’s coveralls as she was climbing the fence. At least, I think it was snot.
And then there was that bull that pushed her over the fence the next year.
We had a heifer that calved a couple of days ago. She was a pretty proud mama and chased Vern (the wonder dog) and me from the pen. I put my grandson, Evan, in a bale feeder to see the calf. That little mama cow had a conniption-fit and put her head in that feeder and put the spook into Evan. He later told Grandma, “Grandma, that cow was trying to kill me!”
Yesterday, I was heavily involved in a pinochle game in town and Shirley was watching heifers. One had just popped a calf out and Shirley walked in there to ease the other heifers away.
I guess she forgot about Evan and me telling her that 023 was a man- eater and pretty proud of her calf.
When I got home, Shirley was nursing a bruised ego and a couple of other bruises. That mama cow had put the run on her and I guess over the years, Shirley has lost a step or two.
And you know what I can’t figure out? Why is she mad at me and not at the heifer? Go figure.