Multi-Tasking

 

I don't believe I'll be entering this photo in a contest or using it for our family birthday calendar. But it's indicative of the quality of photo you get when you're using one hand to hold the end gate of the working chute open and clicking the camera shutter with the free hand.

It may not be a good photo, but I'm kind of guessing Dr. Bruce prefers it to getting a concussion from a falling end gate while in the "business end" of a bred heifer.

Last week, Dr. Bruce came for the first of a series of pregnancy checks for our cattle herd. The heifers were his first patients on the County Line this fall. These 25 ladies are first-time mamas who began life as part of the Class of 2019 calf crop two winters ago. 

They were a lot smaller when they went through the chute in the spring of 2019!

Now, they'll be delivering the first arrivals of the Class of 2021 to The County Line at the end of January and early February.

Just look at the tilt of that head: Believe me, ladies, I can feel this way about my annual ob/gyn appointment, too. 

But back to photo quality: As I learned last year, there is a marked decrease in photo quality when working cattle now that I have more hands-on assignments. With no hired man, I have added a few more roles on cattle-working days. Photographer is not one of them.

I started taking photos as we were gathering the heifers from the Palmer Pasture. 

Here's the ringleader of our little caravan, bringing the heifers along the fence.

So far, so good ...

But, when they began circling back around - away from the open gate - the camera went in the pocket, and I got more serious about urging the ladies to go the direction we requested.

That mission was accomplished. However, getting them to quit turning in circles and go through the open barn door was the next challenge.

I didn't take the camera back out of my pocket until I was guarding the gate while Randy took the first load to the farmstead. 

I didn't fare much better during our appointment with Dr. Bruce. 

Between encouraging the heifers to move the lane for their appointment, then holding the end gate up while Dr. Bruce did his exam, I didn't get many quality photos. And I then went around the table to record each heifer's ear tag number, along with the "degree" with which she was "with child." Most were 5 or 6 months along. 

On a few occasions, I snapped a few photos while Bruce gave vaccines, but alas, those hurried "clicks" didn't yield any memorable shots.

I'll have some other opportunities in the next couple of weeks. We're supposed to work the next group on Saturday - Happy Halloween farm style! That's if we can get the group gathered from the Ninnescah Pasture tomorrow. We'll see whether the rain curtailed those activities ... not that we're complaining about rain. The Rattlesnake Pasture round-up will on the agenda next week. 

My cattle working photos weren't anything to get excited about. But yesterday, we loaded up the three open heifers for their ride to the Pratt sale barn. Sometimes those extra cattle tasks put you in the right place at the right time.

I guess it all evens out in the end.

We also saw 14 whooping cranes on two different days this week. They were too far away to get a good photo, but I tried anyway. 

On Tuesday, they were at a circle just about a mile from our house as the crow - or whooping crane - flies. On Wednesday morning, they were on ground we farm. But again, they were half a mile from a road and my camera zoom just wasn't powerful enough.

On a trip to the pasture, I had Randy stop for a quick snapshot of the fall leaves with our dusting of snow.

So I guess I can't complain about the view - unless it's the one where I'm holding up the working chute end gate.

Sometimes, being at the right place at the right time keeps the vet from getting a concussion from a falling end gate. Other times, it brings you rainbows. Which is more important? Depends on your perspective, I suppose. I'm guessing Dr. Bruce would vote for the end gate - even if it doesn't yield the best photos.

Social Distancing in the Cattle Lot

It only seems right during these days of the Covid-19 pandemic that some of the "patients" were outfitted with "masks" during three days of annual check-ups on the County Line.

 

I guess in this case it's OK to lick your nose ... as long as your "hands" stay away from your mouth and eyes.

 We practiced our version of social distancing.

Pandemic or not, springtime means it's time to "work" baby calves. 

That may sound like we're sending them off to collect a paycheck. But it really means that we are doing the work by sorting, hauling and doctoring the baby calves.

When Jill and Brent were infants, I took them to well-child checks at the pediatrician. They were different than the last-minute appointments we made for ear infections and other ailments. Well-child checks were designed for the pediatrician to evaluate their health status and give any recommended vaccinations.

Our baby calves undergo a similar process each spring. For this appointment, Randy fulfills the role of "physician's assistant." He certainly doesn't have the education of a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. We do use a veterinarian for many of our cattle herd's health needs, and we ordered the medication from our vet, Dr. Bruce. But this is a task that Randy does, with help from me and, this year, a neighbor.

The process starts by gathering the mama cows and the calves. The method varies, depending on the location. To work the calves at Peace Creek, we use 4-wheelers to drive the cows and calves a half mile to the corrals and working chute. 

But, for the other three locations, we gather the cows and calves into a corral and then sort the babies from the mamas. As I've said before, I skip trying to photograph the sorting process. I need my hands free while trying to send mamas back to the corral and keep the babies from following along.

At those other location, we haul the babies by trailer to the working chute, leaving the mamas behind. 

The babies seem more curious about me than concerned about the fact they are separated from their personal milk machines. The mamas end up with that "first-day-of-kindergarten" feeling being separated from their babies. See them all lined up along the fence?

But, just like at the end of the kindergarten session for we human Mommies, the babies will be back with their mamas soon enough - right after their "doctor's appointments."

The babies go, one at at time, down a lane and into a calf cradle - a miniature squeeze chute.

 

I didn't get a photo of calves in the squeeze chute this year. The first order of business is giving each calf a number tag and notch in its left ear.

 

This year, the numbers all start with "0" to indicate the baby was born during the 202"0" calving season. Then the baby calf and his friends got Tic-Tac-sized growth implants in their ears. The hormone stimulates the pituitary gland and helps the calf grow. The $1 implant will bring a $3 return. Randy believes it's a matter of using the technology available to more efficiently grow food for consumers. And, yes, we eat the meat that we produce here on the farm and share it with our children and grandchildren.

We give each calf two injections. One is an immunization to prevent blackleg. The other prevents viral diseases in cattle. People often question the reasons for giving immunizations to animals that will eventually enter the food chain. But these injections are like giving immunizations to our own children. It helps keep the calves healthy, and healthy cattle provide a good source of protein in the human diet.

The bull calves also become steers during their time in the chute. Afterwards, we haul them back to their mothers. For the Peace Creek group, we loaded up the calves in the trailer and the mamas follow along behind.

Then they are reunited.

Other pairs are grazing on a small lot of wheat. I think they look so pretty against the green.

 Others are back in pastures.

The pairs will hang out together until later this spring when we haul them all to their summer vacation spots. We only have a few stragglers left to calve.

Class of 2019 Class Photos

This little guy was head and shoulders above the crowd. Literally.

He was one of the "patients" who participated in the three days of annual "well-child" check-ups last week on the County Line. 

He wasn't the only cutie in the waiting room.

Springtime means it's time to "work" baby calves. That may sound like we're sending them off to collect a paycheck. But it really means that we are doing the work by sorting, hauling and doctoring the baby calves.

When Jill and Brent were infants, I took them to well-child checks at the pediatrician. They were different than the last-minute appointments we made for ear infections and other ailments. Well-child checks were designed for the pediatrician to evaluate their health status and give any recommended vaccinations.

Our baby calves undergo a similar process each spring. For this appointment, Randy fulfills the role of "physician's assistant." He certainly doesn't have the education of a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. We do use a veterinarian for many of our cattle herd's health needs, and we ordered the medication from our vet. But this is a task that Randy does, with help from me and our employee.

The process starts by gathering the mama cows and the calves. The method varies, depending on the location. To work the calves at Peace Creek, we use 4-wheelers to drive the cows and calves a half mile to the corrals and working chute.

 

But, for the other three locations, we gather the cows and calves into a corral and then sort the babies from the mamas. As I've said before, I skip trying to photograph this process. I need my hands free while trying to send mamas back to the corral and keep the babies from following along.

We haul the babies by trailer to the working chute, leaving the mamas behind. 

The babies seem more curious about me than concerned about the fact they are separated from their personal milk machines. The mamas end up with that "first-day-of-kindergarten" feeling being separated from their babies. But, just like at the end of the kindergarten session for we human Mommies, the babies will be back with their mamas soon enough - right after their "doctor's appointments." The babies go, one at at time, down a lane and into a calf cradle - a miniature squeeze chute.

 

The first order of business is giving each calf a number tag and notch in its left ear. This year, the numbers all start with "9" to indicate the baby was born during the 201"9" calving season. Then the baby calf and his friends got Tic-Tac-sized growth implants in their ears. The hormone stimulates the pituitary gland and helps the calf grow. The $1 implant will bring a $3 return. Randy believes it's a matter of using the technology available to more efficiently grow food for consumers. And, yes, we eat the meat that we produce here on the farm and share it with our children and grandchildren.

We give each calf two injections. One is an immunization to prevent blackleg. The other prevents viral diseases in cattle. People often question the reasons for giving immunizations to animals that will eventually enter the food chain. But these injections are like giving immunizations to our own children. It helps keep the calves healthy, and healthy cattle provide a good source of protein in the human diet.

The bull calves also become steers during their time in the chute.

With all the steps done,  the calf joins his fellow "class"mates - none the worse for wear.

After all the calves were through the chute, we loaded them back in the trailer for the short trip back to their mamas. For the Peace Creek group, the babies get a chauffeured ride back to the creek. The mamas follow the trailer the half-mile back to the pasture.

Hopefully, they don't take too many diversions to munch on wheat or grab a drink from a mud puddle.

Once the mamas arrived, they were anxious to find their babies.

I always cue the music in my head, "Reunited and it feels so good..."

We have one more group to work, which will likely happen tomorrow if the lot dries out enough to negotiate it.

The babies and mamas will remain close to the farmstead for the next several weeks until we move them to summer pastures.