When you have cows, falls means one thing, the life of having cows is about to make a full circle. Selling off the calves and the older cows that need to go on down the road. Today was the day that we sold our calves. What is the problem you might ask. Well, it is a long story, so let’s begin.
Growing up we had about 150 head of cows. My Grandpa fussed and cared for each one every year. He knew each cow very well. If he didn’t have a name for them he had a characteristic for each one. He would say, “Ya know that one with the ear that has a cut in it” or “that one with the white front to her”. He knew each one so well, that is actually amazed me as a kid. I assumed every person who had cows possessed such abilities. It didn’t take me long to get the feel of it. I noticed the little things about them. The slide of a foot, swish of a tail, who was cake broke and who was about to be. I think one of the saddest things I have ever watched was taking my Grandpa out to feed cows the the Christmas before he died. My Mom pointed out some of his favorites and he just sat and stared at them and didn’t say a word. To this day it breaks me just thinking about it.
Anyway, I inherited his love of cattle. With our herd, we are the same way. We have names for some and characteristics for others. The Stauff really only has numbers for each one. I am usually asking “who is 62? Is that Mavis?”. He usually rolls his eyes at me and says “I don’t know your damn names”. Although, when we are feeding cake I hear him say, “Come on Frosty, come on”. Yea, yea, don’t know names my ass. We have by no means a “herd” of cows. The Stauff and I promised each other 20 years ago that we would never go in debt to have cows. Knock on wood, so far we haven’t. But, with that means we don’t have alot of cows. We have 14. Now, you say, geesh that isn’t alot. You are correct. Although, those 14 still need to be fed, ice chopped in the winter, doctored, calved, branded and in the end, sold.
The circle starts in July turning the bull out. Free love and a long hot summer. Fall comes and the bull says goodbye and the girls turn their full attention to their calf that they had this past spring. Once we feel the calves are a good weight we choose which of the heifers we will keep and all the boys go down the road. The calves that we keep will either build up the numbers or will replace the cows that are going down the road. Either the cow is old, lost a calf, or bat shit crazy and they head to the sale barn.
This year The Stauff and I scrutinized the calves pretty hard. All of our cows are easy going and nice looking cows, so there really isn’t a bad choice. Numbers were written down on which calves would head down the road and which ones were staying with us. Now to the cows. Two cows were pulled.
We have one cow, “Frosty” who is seriously cake broke. You have a couple cubes of cake in your hand and she will walk through the depths of hell with you. She got the name frosty as she has a white circle on her face along with a little white above her eye. She is a great leader of the bunch and if she starts walking the others will follow right behind her. But. The past two years she threw a huge calf that she couldn’t have on her own and by the time we got her in and the calf pulled, the calf was dead. We thought the first year was a fluke. Just something odd that kicked out. This past year, it was the same thing. Another dead calf and my heart broke for her as she is a very good mama cow. The Stauff said we couldn’t do another year.
The next one that was chosen was “BJ”. BJ stands for Bum Junior as her mother was our very first “Bum” we had and probably the best cow we have ever had. BJ lost her first calf and it was also the first calf I lost tending cows. We both took it hard, me, maybe a little more. But the next year she calved in a snow storm on her own and turned out to be just like her mama. One hell of a cow. She turned out some nice calves. Last winter she must have slipped on some ice and she has had issues once in awhile getting around. The Stauff and I decided that we couldn’t watch her this winter, so she would go down the road.
Then, the babies. The babies are the hardest ones. We look at how the mother is, how her feet are, how she is aging, etc. Thinking that if we keep one of their heifers, that is the genetics that we will be dealing with for awhile. The steer calves are a no brainer, they roll on down the road. But his year, there was SteveO.
SteveO was born in a horrible snow storm and had a zero chance at life. His Mother, #03, (the one with crazy flat bangs) was a first time Mom. I watched as she went by the house with snow coming in side ways, while switching her tail. As the wind screamed, I prayed all would go well. She did calve, but the calf wouldn’t get up. She had him in an old huge culvert. It is an ideal place actually. Out of the wind and snow. I would check on them throughout the afternoon, and the calf was still not up. I would try to help it up, but it was a huge calf and there was nothing I was going to do to help. As the night krept in, so did the cold. The calf was shaking cold and wet. The new Mom, clueless as to what she needed to do, stood and watched me. I decided I would have to take it inside or else it would be dead by morning, but how. We had a ton of snow, but I was able to get the four wheeler into the culvert. I grabbed an old bed spread and threw him on top of it. I grabbed rope and tied him up around the bed spread. A make shift sled. I tied it up to the four wheeler and we started to the house. I pulled him right to the basement door using the mounds of snow as a cushion for him to lay on. I drug his half alive body into the warmth of the basement and I laid him right next to the wood stove. The hound started licking on him and I started rubbing him down with towels. I grabbed a bottle and some colostrum. He finally started to drink and was warming up. All through the night the hound and I laid with him. As the sun was stretching into the basement, the calf was stretching and wanting to get up. I tried to steady him as he stood up. Pretty soon he was starting to stand on his own.
Later that day The Stauff would break through the drifts and was able to get home. He helped me take the calf to the barn and brought in his mother. It took the mama a few hours to love up to her calf, but she did. She did just as we figured out the calf had more issues. His front joint were swelled up. A phone call to the vet. More than likely had a infection that came through his umbilical cord. The infection usually effected joints and the brain. A 50/50 shot he would make it. I felt defeated. We started giving him medicine around the clock like the vet instructed. It took about 4 days and he finally started to walk like he should. J and I was watching him one day and J said “I think we call him SteveO, he looks like a SteveO)”. She was right, SteveO it was. After a week of being penned up, we turned them back to the rest of the cows. It wasn’t a month and SteveO came up lame again. He hurt his front hoof somehow, but about 2 weeks later he was running amuck with the other calves. He turned out just fine.
Which leads us to today. Yesterday we got the cows and calves in. We took our little note on who was staying and who was leaving with us. Cows and calves that were staying went to the north pen. The ones that were heading to the sale barn, went to the west pen. I watched SteveO buck around and run. Thinking of the hell he went through. How many times he looked at death straight in the face and somehow managed to pull through. With all the cows sorted, we fed them and let them set for the night. This AM up bright and early to head to down to load. The Stauff backed up the trailer to the corrals. We took the cows to a smaller pen to pull the calves off. The cows sorted easy. They were ready to get out of the corrals. With the calves separated out, gates were swung the other way to push them down the alley to the trailer. The ran down the alley and jumped right into the trailer just like they knew what they were doing.
The Stauff locked up the doors and nodded as he jumped into the pick up to head to the sale barn. I went to grab the pickup to throw hay to the cows. As I was walking to the gate I looked up at the cows. All the cows that were in the pen with me was watching the trailer with their babie in it. As the pickup started to move so did they. They started to walk along side the corral, bawling for them. As the pick up dropped below the meadow, the bawling got louder, they turned and ran to the furthest pen still watching, still bawling. I grabbed my pitch fork and started to pitch hay to them, with hot tears rolling down my cheeks. SteveO’s Mom just stood there in the pen watching until the only thing left was the dust settling back to the ground. She came back to the rest of the cows who were busy munching on the hay. I made myself busy pitching more hay. #03 walked up the fence and just stood there looking at me. I glanced up at her and here eyes were set on me. Hot tears mixed with hay flakes as they rolled down my cheek. “Don’t look at me” I told her. I stood there moving hay around until she relented and started to eat. I got in the cold pick up and went home. I fixed a hot tea as I wiped my tear/hay streaked face. I stared at the window and muttered “this shit isn’t for the weak”.
And, that is how life on the ranch makes a full circle. There are days when you want to sell them all and days that you want to keep them all. I have called them a few names over the year, sometimes it was a “you son of a bitch”. But, it was done with all love. The care we give them, the prayers we say over them as a storm rolls in all comes to this day. A full circle, just as we get ready for calving season this spring to start it all over again.
