Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

 

"Do do do

Down dooby doo down down
Comma, comma, down dooby doo down down
Comma, comma, down dooby doo down down
Breaking up is hard to do."

I have a song stuck in my head. If you have the same propensity for "ear worms," you might as well join me in humming that old Neil Sedaka song.

We "broke up" with some of our County Line cattle herd last week. Some of them - like an unusually-marked black and white calf - were harder to say goodbye to than others. I think his mom was the one who got a little riled up as we sorted babies from mamas. I wasn't as sad to see her go.

I'll miss these cute little masked guys, too.  They were among the 11 pair of our first-time mama heifers and their babies that we sold through Central Livestock Sale Barn in South Hutchinson last week. 

"Breaking up is hard to do" when you're sorting, too - at least, sometimes. But it went better than either Randy or I anticipated - even though I have no photographic evidence to prove that! As I've said before, I keep the camera in my pocket while we are actually sorting. It's better to use a sorting stick than a camera shutter while trying to get 1,000-pound-plus animals to move in a particular direction!

Randy had prepared a list of heifer pairs that we were going to keep. It was our first job to get them sorted off into another pen. Reading ear tag numbers on moving targets is always a challenge. But our double-check before we released them into a bigger pen showed that we had successfully completed our mission the first time around.

We then sorted our sell group, too. 

Then it was time to load the babies we were selling into the front of one trailer for their 40-mile trip to the sale barn. We kept the babies separate to prevent them from being inadvertently stepped on by their mamas in the trailer.

 

The moms weren't fans of the separation - even if it was for their babies' health. Their objections included hearty bellows and longing looks into the next pen.

We loaded the mamas into another trailer. Before we made the trek to Hutch, we picked up two pair at our home corrals. They were the final two to produce babies, so they were still in our calving corral. They rode with their babies in the back of the "bus" - so to speak. A partition inside the trailer separated them from the baby calves.

We were almost to the sale barn when we were blocked by a train. I should have brought a book. (I almost always do. I think we were waiting almost as long as it took to drive from home!) Randy ended up turning off the pickup and our "music" included a chorus of mama cow bawls, punctuated by the percussion of train cars banging together in a switching yard and the intermittent clickety-clack as the train cars rolled back and forth in front of us.

At last, we arrived at the sale barn.

We sold the 11 pair because we didn't have enough pasture to accommodate all the new babies and their mamas this summer. This isn't a sale that we do every year. However, we culled fewer older cows last fall. We had fewer babies die during our fairly mild winter - definitely a good thing. And our pastures are struggling anyway because of the lack of rain, so extra cattle on the acres isn't a profitable option. 

Randy chose the heifers and their babies because they would bring the best price, since the new owners would be able to breed them back for a number of years. Cows typically have 8 to 10 years of producing babies. Selling the younger females gives the new owners more chances to breed them back to increase their own herds.

In addition, we begin numbering our heifers and their calves from the beginning - matching them up from the start. We don't give ear tags to other calves until we work them in the spring. So we had a ready-made list of pairs to work from.

Even though our cattle already have ear tag numbers, the sale barn employees applied a white sticker to each of the animals we brought as they went through the chute.

You can see the sale barn number sticker on this baby's rump.

Those numbers help match the animals with the seller.

The babies were ushered through a different lane than their moms.

But they were paired back up and went to their new homes together.

I had a meeting in Stafford, so I wasn't able to go to the sale itself. My assistant photographer used his cell phone to get some photos of the sale ring.

Randy was pleased with the price - $1,710 a pair.

Maybe I'll replace that "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do" song with "We Work Hard for the Money."

More to Love: An Update on our 6-Footed Calf

Photo taken March 21, 2018

"How's the 6-footed calf doing?"

Since I published the first blog about our 6-footed calf in February, Randy has answered the question while at breakfast at Joan's Cafe. We've both fielded inquiries at the grocery store, the bank, at church and assorted other locations.

And the answer is this:  It can run fast enough to escape as we were trying to load it into the trailer after working it and its group of contemporaries. (Not my fault, I'll have you know!) After a brief time of freedom, it went back to Peace Creek with its mom and others in the Class of 2018.

When I first wrote about the calf, we assumed that the extra parts were associated with an undeveloped conjoined twin. However, local veterinarian Bruce Figger provided a fact sheet about Developmental Duplication from the American Angus Association. The abnormality has been long observed in Angus cattle. It was previously thought to be caused by conjoined twins or other anomalies during fetal development.

 

Recently it was found to be a simply inherited recessive genetic condition passed through certain lines of Angus cattle. Animals affected with this condition can sometimes be born with an extra limb or part of an extra limb, a condition referred to as polymelia. If you're into genetics and a lot more information, check out the fact sheet.

But as you can see in the video I took a month ago, the baby is thriving and able to move around the pasture just as well as its contemporaries. And, as I said, it's now fast enough to get by two-legged people! I don't have video proof of that escapade. You'll just have to take my word for it!


6-footed calf from Kim Fritzemeier on Vimeo.

The 6-footed calf now has a number: 830. It also made the half-mile journey from Peace Creek to the working chutes by foot.

Doctor's appointments can take it out of you. Just ask No. 835.

So the calves got a chauffeured ride back to the pasture in the trailer.

The moms had to hoof it back to Peace Creek, following their babies.

Motherhood and being reunited with their offspring made the return trip fairly quick and uneventful.

Once back at the pasture, the moms and babies seemed glad to be back together, including No. 830 and its mom.  

This photo was taken in February, but shows the baby and mom together.

Now That's a Lot of Bull

With terms like "sire" and "dam" and "progeny," I suppose we could be conversing about the Royal Family. But instead of stretch limos and spiffy chauffeurs in suits, these "royal" passengers were transported in trailers by guys and gals in crusty boots.

Some people go on weekend dates to the movies. We went to the Sand Hill Farms production sale on March 24. We were looking for one bull to add to the County Line, bringing our total to 5.

Besides, it was a free dinner! That is every farmer's dream date. (And those Trousdale ladies know how to bake pies, let me tell you!)

 

Randy did his homework ahead of time. When the glossy sale magazine arrived in the mail, he circled the bulls he thought would fit into our herd's needs. Then, once we'd arrived at Sandhill Farms, we looked them over in the lots before the sale began.

It was almost like the guys were judging a beauty pageant for bulls. However, it's not a beauty contest, though looking for correct conformation for a breed is one factor in the decision-making process. While Randy looks for bulls that produce smaller birth weight calves, he's also looking for those whose progeny have higher 205-day weaning weights and yearling weights.

I started getting a little nervous when I heard other people talking about some of the same numbers we were looking for. Even I know what impact supply and demand have on prices!

Randy was looking for a Hereford bull he could use for breeding to our heifers, who will be first-time mamas in 2019.

For several years, we used an Angus bull with our heifers. But to add genetic diversity to our cattle herd, Randy opted for a Hereford bull for the heifers for this breeding season. If you want to get all technical, it's a matter of heterosis, "the marked vigor or capacity for growth exhibited by crossbred animals," (according to the dictionary).

 

During the sale, I took photos (big surprise) and watched two little girls take photos with the new version of a Polaroid camera. (They saw me taking photos and later handed me one in which I was among the crowd). 

But even with the distraction of photos, I'd lean over to Randy when I heard the auctioneer talk about low birth weights and say, "How about that one?"

We ended up with Lot 42 also known as SHF Elsmere Z311 E173. It was not one that Randy had originally marked in the sale catalog, but it fit his criteria. (And since several of the ones he had marked went for more than our budgeted amount, he can thank me for saying, "How about that one?") I always knew he had good taste!

Here's what Kevin Schultz of Sandhill Farms had to say about #42:

This calving ease son of Encore ranks in the top 10 percent of the breed for CED (calving ease direct). We have calved out our first Encore daughters, and I really like the udders and mothering of them. 

Yes, I had to look up CED:

CED is expressed as a difference in percentage of unassisted births, with a higher value indicating greater calving ease in first-calf heifers. It predicts the average difference in ease with which a sire's calves will be born when he is bred to first-calf heifers.

SHF Elsmere's genetics should provide a progressive weaning weight and yearling weight. The EPD - or expected progeny difference - at weaning is 54 pounds above the average Hereford weight. The yearling weight EPD is 91 pounds above the average. Its numbers also ranked above average for meat marbling and ribeye area.  The bull is homozygous polled, meaning its progeny won't have horns, another trait we prefer in our herd.

Once the sale was over, I went to pay and Randy got the trailer in line to take No. 42 home. (If we hauled the bull home ourselves, it was $75 off the sale price.)

We gave him several days to settle into life on the County Line by himself.

But last Thursday, we moved the other bulls back home. Thankfully so far, the welcoming committee composed of bigger bulls has been kind ... no West Side Story Jets and Sharks-type fights. He's a little more than a year old and weighs about 1,200 pounds. The guys in the Welcome Wagon definitely have him outweighed.

We'll see if the camaraderie lasts when some ladies are introduced to the mix later this spring. There may be more aggressive defense of their territory at that point. Ah love ... or lust!

37 Years? A Drop in the Bucket

Yesterday was our 37th wedding anniversary. We spent part of the day working another group of baby calves.

And that's OK with me.

Instead of a fancy dress, I was wearing jeans with fragrant "adornments" ... and I don't mean spring flowers like those I carried in my bouquet. The only tie involved for Randy was the rope used to hold the bull calves' legs in place for a quick bit of life-changing surgery.

We did celebrate our March 28 anniversary; we just did it on March 27. We went to a movie, "I Could Only Imagine," and out to eat at Jillian's in Hutchinson. Since our anniversary fell on Wednesday this year, an evening date would have conflicted with church choir. Our church choir is small (but mighty). Having even one voice gone as we practiced for Easter Sunday would make a big difference.

The same can be said of working calves. Everyone has a role, and it goes much better and more quickly if we all pull together.

The whispers of the past on this Century Farm come together when we work calves. See that old, yellowed Tupperware container?

I always say it was part of our inheritance. Really. It's been used to hold the pulling chains and disinfectant since I've been part of the family for 37 years now. I don't know how long it was used prior to that.

It used to be stored in my in-laws' mudroom, but it now makes its home in my basement or back porch, depending upon the season. I'm sure when Marie bought that Tupperware long ago, it was never intended for use in a barn or calving shed or for holding disinfectant for a scalpel as we turn boy calves into steers.

In fact, according to the label, the Tupperware container was part of the Millionaire Line. Man, if only THAT had come true! After a quick perusal at the Tupperware website, I have concluded they don't make it anymore. Maybe I could suggest a whole new marketing campaign for cow/calf producer products. On second thought, no. Somebody somewhere would protest that the plastic isn't "GMO-free" or "local" or some other buzzword.

Even though Marie has been gone for more than 20 years and Melvin for nearly 16, their farming legacy lives on through us on this land that's been farmed by Fritzemeiers for five generations.

The back of our calves' eartags have our address and Randy's phone number.

The transportation choice for our anniversary "date" included an open-air vehicle. Nope, not a convertible.

A 4-wheeler also lets the wind ruffle your hair while dashing through pastures and along dirt roads.

Everyone loves a "party," but some need a little encouragement to get out of their routine.

Some awfully cute guests attended our party.

Someone told a couple of calves that it was a masquerade ball. Their buddy didn't get the memo.

 

That's OK, guy. Our party wasn't that fancy!

It seemed this party attendee had had a fluff and a curl before attending.

There are always those introverts who want to hide among the crowd. I can relate!

There was no cake, but some of the partygoers couldn't wait to get the "door" closed back home before they grabbed a drink from their favorite milk "bar."

There may not have been cake, but Randy did get his blueberry pie later in the afternoon. I prefer the sappy card. He prefers homemade pie.