Herding words – or cattle – in South Eastern Montana
In a recent post I mentioned Thor, who has allowed me to write his story and whose story is now available to read in the Nonfiction section of my web site. Or you can follow this link to it. Thor is now a 2 year old steer but when he was a 4 month old calf, he was caught in a water tank. Thor’s Story is about his rescue, injuries and recovery. I hope you enjoy getting to know Thor through his story. Thor rules!
I’m posting a movie I made from video and photos I took as we fed yesterday. First, the grouse were dancing to greet us! Then the lighting was stunning as the yearlings walked in for their hay with the sun shining through the puffs of their breath. Then I had to include Thor – he’s the calf with the scars and scabs on his legs. His recovery has been a lengthy but rewarding project and in our lives, Thor rules! I’ll post a short story about Thor soon. I included a panoramic view of one of the feed grounds with a gorgeous sky, and finally, a hawk remained on his tree as I drove by, just watching but not flying until I passed. We see most of these things most mornings, but I don’t usually get pictures of them all. I hope you enjoy Mother Nature’s gifts with us.
I’m posting these photos for our friends who haven’t experienced the last several days of frigid weather with us…know everyone in Eastern Montana has their own images and struggles. But the cattle got fed every day and we survived with maybe a minor frostbite, but nothing too bad.
I fondly remember feeding with my Dad in the 1960’s when he pitched loose hay onto a wagon and we fed with a team of horses. Fond memories, but oh how thankful I am that we don’t have to feed that way. It’s awfully nice to get a 4 wheel drive pickup out of a heated garage, have hay waiting that was put down by someone in a heated tractor, feeding round bales that are too heavy to handle by hand…our blessings go on and on!
Sonny, at 89, has been itching to get out every morning to check on and feed his cows. Then we’ve fed again in the evening so cow bellies are full to help them get through nights in the -30’s – our coldest was -37°, but it felt even colder at -17 with a 17 mph wind. That was brutal!
I’m hoping to go out tomorrow morning without my #stormykromer fur hat – that means it’s above zero so I don’t need EVERY layer I own!
I haven’t been writing at all, but I’ve learned how to make cheese from my cow’s excess milk, I’ve doctored a calf through 1 1/2 years of slow recovery (that’s a story I’ll share another day but for now I’ll tell you his name is Thor and he is a warrior I love with all my heart), we’ve avoided getting Covid and I’ve enjoyed this incredible lifestyle with Sonny living and ranching in rural Eastern Montana. Every time we look at the TV or social media, we are more thankful to be a little back-woodsy, out of the rat race, rural rather than urban and living at our pace and with our problems and innumerable blessings. I wish the rest of the world good luck, but I won’t trade places with anyone.
Holy Smokes! I didn’t realize it had been so long since I’d posted anything. Life hasn’t taken a sharp turn…more like veered steadily off course. So I’ll try to right the ship and post regularly again.
I’m afraid it’s going to be like starting school again…I’ve forgotten how to do anything but type. Stay tuned – I’ll get better.
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!
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°.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Three years ago, our sweet old dog Mr. Peabody died so I’d gone out in the hills to find a twisted tree root sculpture sort of thing for his grave. Instead, I was gifted by getting to watch a fight between two bucks. The fight lasted about 5 minutes, but some of it happened off screen. Even so, I edited segments of the fight together for the following video. I stayed safely behind a tree, careful not to intrude or get involved, even when the losing buck trotted past about 15 feet away from me. I can say I’ve had an experience the Head Honcho has never had! Hope you enjoy watching…
We weaned the bulk of the calves this week so…
– the horses were a little tight on brisk mornings – a reminder that they’re letting us ride them,
– the cattle gathered, trailed and sorted perfectly,
– it’s been noisy in the yard – all day and night,
– the calves got a gate open and went for a walk-about,
– the cows broke a gate down but didn’t get to the calves,
– the calves weighed less than we hoped but more than we expected,
– the market is down so we’re weaning and feeding rather than selling.
In addition, the pullets started laying eggs so we have white, tan, brown, green and blue eggs from our rainbow flock.
It’s been a busy week getting ready for the calves and ready for fall’s next wintry blast.
Thankfully, the residents of this great nation voted their conscience and respected that we don’t all agree, nor do we need to. We can still respect one another’s right to vote – no matter who was elected in any race, democracy won!
Stay safe everyone.
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Cow #236 is perpetually lame. In fact we call her Spraddle Legs as she walks with a distinctive rear end swing. All winter she was the last one to get to the feed ground, but went the furthest from the feed ground to graze. Through calving, we made countless trips to check on “that cow that didn’t come in” and it was usually #236 making her slow way in for hay.
The Head Honcho was checking cows the other day, looked down toward the road and saw four cow legs flailing in the air. A cow was doing the backstroke in Peabody’s Pond, a shallow spring fed bend in the creek named after our old dog that used to swim there.
#236 was on her back, head under water, but with enough strength to pull her head up and blow to clear the water out of her nose. Not as spry as he once was, the Head Honcho says he thought he was going to end up in the pond under the cow as he attempted a rescue.
Luckily there was an old rope in the bed of the Ranger, so he roped one back leg, tied it to the Ranger. He didn’t have enough power to pull her over the bank, but he pulled her along the bank about 30 feet until her hind end bumped into a hummock and he couldn’t pull her any further. By then, she had rolled upright so he untied the rope and went for help.
Both sons came to the rescue with tractor and chain. They pulled the old girl out of the pond and well away from the bank then removed the rope and chain. We checked on her later that night and she was venturing too close to the bank. She was more wobbly than normal, one hind leg barely worked and her ears hung to her knees.
We tried to move her away from the bank but she kept veering toward the creek. Finally the Head Honcho said, “Let her go. There’s only so much we can do for them.” And as we drove off, we were discussing whether or not she’d survive the night.
But she did!
The next day, once again she was the last one to the feed ground, but when she arrived she created chaos. The other cows had no idea what that mud covered thing was so were pushing her feeble body around, knocking her this way and that. So we (I say we but I was the only one afoot!) walked her about 1/2 mile to the lot near the house and put her in with a few two year old heifers that hadn’t calved yet. They were curious, but less aggressive than the old cows.
We thought she would lose her calf from the ordeal, but a few nights later, she gave birth to a set of twins. The Head Honcho said, “That poor old soul – as if she didn’t have enough problems!”
She’s raising one, though even that has been a bit of a struggle. But with each spring rain she looks more like a cow. Even without the weight of twins her spraddle legged gait hasn’t improved, but the one legged pull through the mud doesn’t seem to have done any permanent damage. One ear still hangs, but now only to her chin.
When Mom and Sherry spent the day with us to celebrate my birthday, we revisited this location where we sat for a picture taken over 55 years ago. Now if I can only find that old picture…
Rode out today and brought the older horses in so we can feed them hay. The snow is just too deep to leave them out on their own. We are seeing the tips of some sagebrush now, but in the horse pasture, there was nothing but snow as far as I could see.
Sandy Snider Stahl 