Calving, our busiest and most intense season, is a few short weeks away, so we try to finalize loose ends before it starts. This week, the guys selected the replacement heifers then sold the remainder. These little girls headed off to be replacement cows on another ranch. It’s always hard to see them go but it’s also rewarding to know someone else thinks highly enough of stock raised on this ranch to use them in their operation.
Though we had good weather, the ground was icy so the Head Honcho chose to run the gate with the least chance of fast action. None of us slipped or fell, but a few of the calves did a little skating.
Though joking, the buyer suggested that the Head Honcho do the sorting – he’d raised them, he knew them, and the buyer was sure the Head Honcho could do it well. It was a well deserved compliment, but it’s both the right and responsibility of the buyer to cut back what he doesn’t want. Talking it over later, we both agreed with every cut the buyer made and also agreed that we would have cut just a little deeper. That turned a very good sale into a great sale!
Finally, the girls loaded onto the semi like they were eager to get to their new home and start their life as productive members of his operation. We hope they treat him well, because from the way he worked cattle, we are confident he will treat them well.
In a previous period of my life, I spent a lot of hours swinging gates and running up and down alleys for a cattle buyer. It is always a pleasure to work with someone who sorts with confidence, uses minor finger signals to indicate cut back or let go, and above all else, doesn’t stir up the cattle. This buyer’s sorting brought back many great memories, and the whole day’s efforts were smooth and easy.
We just got out of the deep freeze that covered most of the country. We are more accustomed to dealing with frigid temperatures than our southern neighbors; they suffered at 29° at the same time we were suffering at -40°, but I do believe we were better prepared!
For my part, I was surprised to discover that the creaking and crunching of snow increases in volume somewhere below -18° but is relatively consistent from -30° to -40°. The feeding video was taken on a -30 morning; just listen to that cold!
The Sound of Cold
A few days ago when I got up, for the first time in over a week our temperature was above zero - a heat wave at 12°. And in that week we only had two days that it got above zero all day - and then only to 2° and 4°.
Frosty Coats at -40
It always amazes me that livestock survive this kind of weather at all, let alone thrive. We feed them extra rations in bitter cold and give them a bed of straw, but still…
I brought my milk cow to the corral and put her in the barn at night but when it’s -40° outside, it’s -40° in the barn, no wind but still awfully cold. And Bugaboo didn’t want to go inside at night and couldn’t wait to get out in the morning! She’s due to calve March 8th, her bountiful bag is already pretty full and her belly is heavy with calf, but every frigid evening she waddled away from me as fast as she could to avoid being haltered and led to the barn. I must admit that my pace was no faster than hers, but attribute my penguinish pace to being swaddled in multiple layers. I didn’t really run her down as much as outlast her.
Sooooo Coooold!
I accidentally discovered a miraculous cap this winter and want to give a heartfelt thanks to the Stormy Kromer company. I bought the cap for the Head Honcho for Christmas but he insisted he has plenty of caps so I snarfed it up for myself rather than returning it. I wear a visor underneath for shade and for a filler since his head is larger than mine, but I tell him that’s due to his abundance of hair rather than brains. As he loses hair with increasing age, that argument is harder to sell but he never did buy into it anyway!
The cap is wool covered with fur and fits like a glove so doesn’t fall off with the flaps up, or scootch around irritatingly. It looks like a Cossack hat with the flaps snapped on top, but the warmth comes when they are snapped below the chin so the fur protects most of my face and air never gets to my ears or forehead. The flaps also button on the side for moderately cold weather so it’s very flexible. It’s too warm for even slightly cold conditions, so at few degrees above zero I grab a Scotch cap instead. I took the selfie at -32°, and even though I wasn’t able to see what I was doing because of the frost on my glasses, I was comfortably warm.
-40 in my Stormy Kromer Cap
The Head Honcho (at 86) and I feed all the cows hay and chop ice for most of them every morning. He often likes to sleep late, but when it’s cold out he’s up hours before the sun, worried about the cattle and eager to get feed to them.
To simplify some of our chores, we kept some of the horses in, and took hay out to the others. Gumbo and Gringo greeted me at sunrise when it was -40.
Gumbo and Gringo at Sunrise
Our dog Hank slept on the porch though the bitter cold weather, and a couple days wasn’t interested in going out solo, but was always eager to accompany me to do chores. He wants to pack something in his mouth at all times and usually brings whatever trash he can find to the yard. I’ve taught him to carry my egg basket to the chicken house, and halters to the barn, though there is a bit of wear and tear on them with every trip. He plays his way to our destination, likes tug of war if I’m willing, but is good about dropping the gear once we arrive. He’s a bit too enthusiastic to bring the full egg basket back to the house, which is obvious in the video, though he always offers!
I’ve had to rebuild the woven basket repeatedly, so it’s now fully covered in leather. I’ve rigged up rope handles on little pails for him, but he much prefers the basket. I’m hoping that eventually he will take an item to the Head Honcho, and the Head Honcho is willing to help in the training, as long as we practice having Hank take him a cold beer. We’ll call that a work in progress.
We got a new pup recently and what fun it’s been. To read the “whole” story and see more photos, follow the following link to the story. https://sandystahlauthor.com/hank/
Feeding cleft palate calf while catching slobbers & nasal discharge
In mid summer, neighbors spotted a bum calf off by itself and though no one could get very close, the ear tag indicated it could belong on the NXX. The Head Honcho and I rode our cattle, the neighbors’ cattle then found the calf two miles away from the Head Honcho's nearest cows. But she clearly belonged to the outfit so we trailed her home.
It was beastly hot so we let her rest in some shade while we rode home for dinner, then returned later to finish the trip. We finally got her close enough to lead her in with the milk cow’s calf, although Taboo was a little leery of the little fur ball that bawled like a calf but didn't much look like one. She had never seen anything that looked quite like that calf did.
The bum was one pathetic little critter. Her hair was long and dull, her tail was covered with manure balls and her belly was huge from malnutrition. On her best day she hadn’t looked good as she has a Roman nose and a cleft palate, which allows her tongue to protrude from the missing nostril.
It took four days of fighting her before she would accept a bottle, then 3 weeks of her chewing, swishing her tongue around, swallowing or choking, then repeating the procedure. Feeding her was a long, slow process and I caught whatever came out of her mouth and nose to feed to the cats. At each feeding, I was covered with milk and slobbers.
But now, nearly a month into this process, I’m a proud mamma! She started sucking! And she does it with no coughing, choking or nasal discharge.
Cleft palate calf with no left nostril
The baby likes her grooming so the manure balls are gone from her tail, her hair is slick and wavy from her licking, she loves her grain and hay, and she comes to me to be haltered for her meals. She’s more like the other calves now - she butts and wants more milk than her regulation 1/2 gallon at each feeding.
The last 2 days I’ve been able to stand upright in front of her rather than stooped over her head with a leg on each side of her neck. This is such a relief to my back that I’m almost delirious with joy.
I am sorry to say that in about a week, along with Taboo and Bull Pen, the bum I’ve been feeding, she’s going to be weaned. This almost breaks my heart - but not quite. I’ve been milking for 6 months and am taking the next 6 months off. Well - off from that responsibility at least!
The Head Honcho has said over and over that HIS DAD SAID, that anyone that cared about their milk cow wouldn’t let a calf suck her. I understood this to mean that they didn’t put bums on the milk cows. But when I complained about how rough my milk cow Bugaboo’s calf was to her, backing up to get a full head of steam up before hitting her udder, the Head Honcho just repeated the refrain, “My Dad said that anyone that cared about their milk cow wouldn’t let a calf suck her.”
“Do you mean her own calf?” I asked in wonder.
“Yes, of course.”
“You mean you always milked and bottle fed the milk cow’s own calf?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You’re kidding! I thought you meant bum calves.”
“No. Any calf. We always milked and fed the calves.”
“On a bottle? All of them?”
“Well, a bottle or a bucket. But it’s not so easy to train them to a bucket.”
For days I dreamed of buckets, but decided not to even try that. I just weaned Taboo from her mom and forced her to take a bottle and fed her with Bull Pen. That took a few days. She was snotty, refused to suck, kicked at me. Taboo had had an attitude from birth, and I was not fond of her even though I love her mom. Well, her attitude changed about the day she decided she’d suck a bottle. Gone were the kicks, the butts, the whole obstinate attitude. What a revelation! I had no idea that she was an obnoxious snot because she sucked her mom, and that she would become a docile sweetheart who came to be haltered and tied, who liked petting and rarely butted when I bottle fed her. Her behavior change alone is one great reason to bottle feed.
But it is a lot more work…for five months now, I’ve milked and fed both calves. When I started feeding Taboo, my milking time nearly doubled, as did the bottle washing.
Bugs in fly sheet, Taboo, Bull Pen and #15 – calves ready for supper
Basically, I enjoy milking, largely because I have the sweetest milk cow in the whole world. She’s a doe eyed Jersey, and I started her as a two year old. I know, I sound like I started a colt. But it was kind of the same as I got to start her so her habits suit me. She didn’t know milk cows were to be milked on the right so I milk from both sides - I’m short and this saves my back. A little. With increasing back problems, I’ve considered selling Bugaboo, but when the pain recedes I know I’m not ready to give her up. And what a blessing she is during calving!
The guys, of course, think this whole deal of me having a milk cow is a great solution to calving problems requiring milk. I do all the milking so their only effort is to say, “Do you have any extra milk?” And that answer is always, “YES!!!”
I don’t know how much milk most off-dairy Jerseys give - that is on dry land pasture rather than hay and grain - but this little work horse was giving well over 4 gallons per milking in early summer. Before that, I simply milked every time I walked by her to keep her bag from splitting wide open. The cats, chickens and dogs started running away every time I showed up with a bucket in my hands. And although I make cheese, I rarely have time to do it at the height of milk production amid calving.
I figured out the other day that when I get 2 gallons of milk every 12 hours, Bugs is making nearly 2 cups of milk every hour. That’s amazing to me! How can that little bitty cow do that? No wonder milk cows are just skin and bones!
But no matter how much I love her, enjoy milking and want to see the new little bum grow to her full potential, I’m worn out. Every moment of my life - and therefore the Head Honcho’s life as well - revolves around the three hours of milking and related chores. If I have an early date to rake hay for instance, I have to get up even earlier to get the milking done first. On the rare days we go to town, we have to hurry home. If we go visit a neighbor, we have to do it before milking and hurry home, or after milking, which means I’m too tired to be decent company. (I will not repeat the Head Honcho’s response to that!)
The first day I don’t milk, I’m going to sleep in...OK, probably not. And I suspect I’ll go down and pet Bugs and tell her it will be OK and she’ll feel better in just a few days. And I’ll groom and pet the calves and give them a little extra feed, and tell them they’ll feel better in a few days. And in a few days, I might even sleep in.
As far as we know, our new 2 year old Tango had never been saddled before. In fact, we were told she was barely halter broke. And I spent our first session together teaching her to back off as she wanted to stand right on top of me.
So I didn’t know what to expect when I sacked her out. I’d used a rope around her legs before and she was obviously used to that. So this time, I used a rag rubbed then hung all over her, then draped an unfolded saddle blanket across her back. When she packed that around without flinching or spooking, I cinched it up on her with a soft rope. She looked it all over pretty closely but didn’t object to any of it.
So I got my old saddle – one my parents gave me for my 7th birthday – since it’s light enough for me to handle easily. She inspected it, then didn’t object when I put it up on her neck and slid it back, or when I put it directly on her back. She didn’t mind the cinching up either and walked off like she’d been saddled every day of her life.
So far, she’s making points in everything she does!
She doesn’t walk on me any more, but she leads so close she nudges my arm with her nose every few steps. I’m having to adjust to that and other things about her, too. Windsor has been my partner for several years now, but she’s much more standoffish, where this girl wants to be CLOSE.
We keep the fillies in a little pasture behind the house. It’s one of my pleasures every day to step outside and call them. They come on a lope and stand with their heads over the gate while I halter them. I’d like to think they love me that much, but truthfully – and as the Head Honcho says – it’s because I lead them to water!
We had a great day shipping and the photo shows part of the crew waiting for a load to come off a trailer.
We gathered the first pen of cattle in a pitch black morning before the sun showed even a hint of rising. I’m glad to say it was the Head Honcho that had to go back to get a calf he’d missed in the dark!
It was so cloudy we never did see the sun rise – the gray just lightened. But the weather wasn’t bad, even though we did go through a squall or two. The flakes were enormous and I thought they were going to turn my little filly from red roan to white before they melted.
Windsor in snowfall
In the video you can see the Head Honcho whipping us all into shape. He doesn’t usually use a flag, and in discussions after the fact, we agreed that the flag really kept the calves moving up the loading alley. I also told him that there were times that I wanted to use the flag on him, and he agreed…that at times he wanted to use it on me! We both operated with restraint and laughed about our frustrations… after the calves were on their way to Nebraska.
The cows worked off the calves great, and the calves couldn’t have loaded any better. Thanks to our great neighbors that helped haul the calves to the scale then stayed for the best part of the day – warming up and visiting. Well, getting the pay check was pretty good too, though the Head Honcho never thinks it’s big enough. But that’s just part of ranching.
At the scales, I served munchies and hot drinks out of the horse trailer my Dad bought in the 1960s. That trailer was Dad’s pride and joy for a good many years so when it was no longer feasible to use it as a horse trailer, I couldn’t bear to part with it so converted it to a “chuck wagon”. We were dry, out of the wind and the propane stove kept us toasty warm on a darned cool morning.
The pairs got their first bite of fall hay today during a blizzard that lasted about 15 minutes. In this protected bend of Corral Creek, the snow floated and danced for the camera. On the bench above, the wind drove the snow and it was a bitter cold white out.
The Head Honcho wants to keep the old girls full before we finish weaning and shipping this week and next. With all the pasture growth this bountiful year, they were full before the hay, but they were eager to get it. More important, the Head Honcho was happy knowing he’s provided for the ones that provide everything for us.
And when the Head Honcho is happy, we’re all happy!
We got home to a loaf of bread raised and ready for baking. So our afternoon snack (and my supper) was bread hot out of the oven, slathered with melting butter – a treat for us as the hay was for the cows! And our waistlines show that we needed it just as badly…
It’s pretty rare that rodeo schedules allow for both bull riders to be home to help on the ranch at the same time. It’s even more rare to find them helping horseback. The Head Honcho and I are old school and think horse before we think motors. Not so the rest of the crew, so it’s well worth while to get a photo on these occasions.
Riding with his grandsons makes the Head Honcho hopeful that they may carry on the ranching traditions that built and maintain this ranch.
The Head Honcho had a birthday and I got a new horse! Can it get any better than that??
The only problem is that he’s pretty impressed with her so far and talking of taking her away from me – the dirty rat. It would be nice if we could share her, but we found out early on in our relationship that one thing we can’t share is a horse.
Love only goes so far so I’m not seriously considering letting him have her, but I am getting his approval on what we’re going to call her. Her registered name isn’t user friendly, but so far he’s rejected everything I’ve come up with.
I have to be careful or he’ll change a few letters of her name and call her something insulting. The less he likes the name, the worse the insult will be. For example, if I call her Bandana he’d call her Banana or Hankie. No kidding! I have to consider every possible rhyme or corruption of the name.
More thinking is required, so for now she’s just The Filly…but she’s still mine!
The Head Honcho enjoys using the war bridle I gave him two years ago for his birthday. A few days ago, he lived a story with the war bridle, and it’s well worth sharing. To read the the full story, follow the link to the Short Story section of my web page using the following link War Bridle.
And I hope you can find the time to wish Sonny (you don’t have to call him Head Honcho) well on his 85th birthday on October 6th. He insists that we throw no parties for him, but he loves to see birthday wish messages .
Sandy Snider Stahl 