Now, I should preface this by saying that we don't allow our son more than a small amount of screen time (TV or computer) per day. The TV is watched with us right there and it can take us two or three days finish a feature length movie.
Parents, raise your hand if you have ever been forced to watch a children's show with insincere adults, a well-trained animal and the hokiest lines ever written and wanted very much to find the people that made that bane of civilization and personally beat them into a tin can? Or have you been forced to watch a cartoon whose sole purpose to get your kid singing the most annoying songs ever written which made you want to personally tie the singers vocal cords together into a pretty bow? Or high budget, high flash, low brain movies that made your child want cheap 'Made in China' garbage guaranteed to fall apart within a week (more applicable for the slightly older kids)? After about two dozen of those, you are ready to do one of the following:
1) Ban every cartoon, muppet, puppet and anything resembling cute from ever crossing your threshold or gracing the screen of your TV again.
2) Get your spouse to watch your dear child while you spend an hour listening to punk and gangster rap on your headphones while playing with dangerous tools and not following directions.
3) Ride your horse. Right into the next state.
4) Move to a remote cabin in Alaska without running water, regular bathing, or satellite tv.
Then, you find a little ray of hope. Something with enough cute to satisfy the little one but with enough snark to keep the parents happy. We were thrilled, for instance, when our son was finally old enough for Bugs Bunny. The old favorites (violence and all) were pulled out and he has handled them well. Whew!
Recently, our friends from across the pond have provided us with a form of sanity known as "Shaun the Sheep". I think I'm addicted. The best episode is "Hiccups". It had me laughing until our son gave me a worried look.
Our son loves it, too. It's probably just a passing fancy, but anyone who makes childhood TV shows that are adult friendly should be awarded a public service medal, (or whatever the British equivalent is). Oh, and "Wallace and Gromit" is another survivable kids show made by the same folks.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Monday, October 24, 2011
Armstrong, the small and mighty Dexter bull
I must admit that I was skeptical when we unloaded that 8 month old bull calf this past June. Our long trip to Virginia was far from disappointing. Here was a lovely built bull....in miniature! He is certainly on the shorter end of long-legged Dexter bulls, which is exactly what my herd needs because I feared they were approaching the upper end of the height standards. However, that means there is a basic physics problem of how a small young bull can cover older taller cows. I joked about leaving a step-stool in the pasture. I wasn't anxious for him to breed my cows, but I have four cows that will be going to their new homes as soon as they are bred. Summer means grass is available and if he can't settle them until fall, well, then it costs money to feed the sold cows hay so it is in my best interests for the cows to be bred as soon as the bull is able.
I looked at my crabby 6 year old cows eyeballing him with amusement and wondered how he'd ever woo them or if they would send him straight to a playpen at the far side of the pasture. At first, I tried to put him in an adjacent pasture in hopes that he would be accepted more readily with such a formal introduction (like an old fashioned lover's gate of sorts). He would have none of it. He bellowed his calf-like cry and made it clear he wanted in with the girls. I relented. As soon as a I opened the gate, he marched right up to the first cow like he was ten feet tall, and sniffed her boldly. She was taken aback but tolerated him. It was like watching a little terrier strut right up to a big shepherd. He had no doubts. Confidence seemed to walk with him as he checked out his herd. I left feeling that at least they were probably intimidated enough not to chase him through a fence.
The next few days were a marvel. Junior herded his cows and checked them like a seasoned bull. I watched bemused but still wondered if I should dig some holes for the cows to stand in or cart in some rocks for the bull to climb up onto.
Now, for those that know standard breeds, a bull should be a year old before you can expect him to produce any calves. We had the vet out to check our cows for pregnancy at the beginning of October. All but one is at least two months pregnant. A few are three months along. The one cow is most likely just too early to confirm as pregnant. Armstrong had a busy summer. I do not know how he accomplished this task, and, frankly, I don't need to know. I never saw him do anything but groom and herd the cows but he's the only bull for miles. His first calves are expected in March and April. ;)
I looked at my crabby 6 year old cows eyeballing him with amusement and wondered how he'd ever woo them or if they would send him straight to a playpen at the far side of the pasture. At first, I tried to put him in an adjacent pasture in hopes that he would be accepted more readily with such a formal introduction (like an old fashioned lover's gate of sorts). He would have none of it. He bellowed his calf-like cry and made it clear he wanted in with the girls. I relented. As soon as a I opened the gate, he marched right up to the first cow like he was ten feet tall, and sniffed her boldly. She was taken aback but tolerated him. It was like watching a little terrier strut right up to a big shepherd. He had no doubts. Confidence seemed to walk with him as he checked out his herd. I left feeling that at least they were probably intimidated enough not to chase him through a fence.
The next few days were a marvel. Junior herded his cows and checked them like a seasoned bull. I watched bemused but still wondered if I should dig some holes for the cows to stand in or cart in some rocks for the bull to climb up onto.
Now, for those that know standard breeds, a bull should be a year old before you can expect him to produce any calves. We had the vet out to check our cows for pregnancy at the beginning of October. All but one is at least two months pregnant. A few are three months along. The one cow is most likely just too early to confirm as pregnant. Armstrong had a busy summer. I do not know how he accomplished this task, and, frankly, I don't need to know. I never saw him do anything but groom and herd the cows but he's the only bull for miles. His first calves are expected in March and April. ;)
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Horse Ghost Town
We drove down the winding road in the shade of oak tree hammocks with spanish moss dangling overhead. We were on our way to Dunnellon, Florida to pick up a couple of turkey chicks. The route passed through the legendary Ocala, FL. The home of so many famous racing stud farms. It is Lexington, KY with palm trees. Or, at least, it used to be.
I have traveled this route before. The first time was back in 2005, when I was still in the US Navy. I drooled over the scenic pastures with double fencing and stunningly beautiful horses munching happily. Broodmares with round bellies full of hope and promise.
This morning was a much different experience. As we passed through town, I saw overgrown pastures and many "For Sale" or "For Lease" signs. Irish Acres is being sold off into 0.9 acre parcels to build "your dream home". Many of the big stud farms are just gone. The expensive signs have been taken down and the fences are falling into disrepair. What startled me most, however, was the waste of it all. All that valuable pasture land with nothing to eat it. Meanwhile, people are auctioning off their horses for less than $50. Ads on Craigslist for free horses, some in deplorable condition, on empty lots without a blade of grass. If only we could rescue horses and have them use that valuable pasture this summer. With slick shiny coats, perhaps they'd have an easier time finding good homes. Of course, it would never work, but the irony is appalling.
I think I'll stick to the highway next time.
I have traveled this route before. The first time was back in 2005, when I was still in the US Navy. I drooled over the scenic pastures with double fencing and stunningly beautiful horses munching happily. Broodmares with round bellies full of hope and promise.
This morning was a much different experience. As we passed through town, I saw overgrown pastures and many "For Sale" or "For Lease" signs. Irish Acres is being sold off into 0.9 acre parcels to build "your dream home". Many of the big stud farms are just gone. The expensive signs have been taken down and the fences are falling into disrepair. What startled me most, however, was the waste of it all. All that valuable pasture land with nothing to eat it. Meanwhile, people are auctioning off their horses for less than $50. Ads on Craigslist for free horses, some in deplorable condition, on empty lots without a blade of grass. If only we could rescue horses and have them use that valuable pasture this summer. With slick shiny coats, perhaps they'd have an easier time finding good homes. Of course, it would never work, but the irony is appalling.
I think I'll stick to the highway next time.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Trip to Virginia and two new additions
Has anyone ever thought to themselves, "Gee, I would like to grab my spouse, strap my toddler into his car seat, load up two cows, and drive over 650 miles?" Really? Never? Well, if the wild urge ever strikes you, may I suggest either repeatedly slamming your hand in a car door or perhaps driving a few nails with your forehead.
We had a promising new baby bull to pick up in Church Roads, Virginia and two of our cows were being leased to Maymont Park in Richmond, Virginia. After discussing all options, we decided to do our first family road trip. Note: we do not own a minivan with any sort of entertainment center and sound-proof barrier. No, there was no way to lull our offspring into a Disney-induced, eyes glazed over, DVD coma. We left armed with some feeble toys, lots of wipes, Kleenex, snacks, water, and access to both hubby's and my I-tunes, all within easy reach during the drive. And, I thought, naively, that I was well-prepared.
John has many talents. One of which is to yell for miles on end when we do not play his favorite song 37 times in a row. In fact, I do believe the back seat of a 3/4 ton pick-up truck actually magnifies young voices so when his 37th request was refused, his wails were actually louder than stepping on the toes of 40 cats, blasting 15 trumpets, and a Blue Angels flyover all simultaneously.
I am happy to report, however, that while John had his moments, I did bring one magical toy that made the trip bearable: a soccer ball. At every stop for gas or sanity, we took John out to a grassy spot to kick the ball around and get rid of pent up energy.
Meanwhile, the cows, Erin, and Arnold, were quite well-behaved. The first night, we stopped at Mistletoe Farms in Varnville, SC. Erin and Arnold were unloaded and placed into a large 14x14 foot stall to rest. The barn was cool and dark in the June heat. We toured the miniature horse farm with the owners of the quaint little Bed and Breakfast. John was a bundle of energy after the long drive so the walk did him some good. Then, we dropped the trailer and headed into town for dinner. We ended up at a local diner sitting next to the grumpiest old sheriff's deputy I have ever seen in my life. He had to work hard at being that grumpy. The small town of Hampton, SC surely could not have had the murder rate to make that cop so bitter towards his fellow man that his face was masked in a permanent scowl. I truly believe he would make NYC homicide detectives cry. Even John inquisitively peering at him over the back of our bench did nothing to break his mask (as we hurriedly sat our child back down lest Mr. Robocop reached for his taser).
Erin and Arnold at the B&B.
Although still concerned that we might be arrested for smiling too much, we had to let John run around a bit before heading back to the B&B. Thankfully, Mr. Grumpy had urgent business elsewhere (no doubt stamping out excess mirth in some other sector of town). It was nice to return to the B&B to relax and check on the cows before bed. By early evening, there was a cool breeze flowing through the paddocks so we moved the cows outside to spend the night.
The cows loaded easily the next morning for our drive to Virginia. It was a long day and we didn't reach Maymont until after the park had closed to the public. Erin and Arnold didn't seem at all fazed by the new surroundings. The pastures were lush and spacious as was their own private paddock, complete with a shelter. We tied them up and brushed them with their new caretakers and then unloaded their hay, feed, treats and buckets. We left their halters with them as well. It was hard to leave them since I had known them since the day they were born, but they are in very good hands.
We noticed a problem with one of the trailer tires and fortunately, the baby bull's owner was able to direct us to a tire repair service the following morning. After that little adventure, we were off to Paradise Farm to pick up Armstrong. We had a chance to meet the bull's sire and dam as well as may others in Mr. Bowen's herd. Very impressive animals. Armstrong was coaxed into the trailer and we were off to South Carolina once again. We arrived late at night so we left Armstrong in the trailer and dragged ourselves off to bed.
The following morning began early again and we packed up and readied ourselves for another lovely breakfast. As we stepped out of the door, the B&B owner was watching a skinny Golden Retriever cross walk around his yard. The dog came right up to us with his tail wagging. He was subdued and dirty but very friendly. No collar or tags and the farm owner had never seen him before. He and his wife had three dogs, two of which were aggressive towards other dogs (though perfectly lovely towards people) so he told us that he would have to take the dog to the local pound. He also mentioned in passing that the pound didn't have much luck finding new homes for dogs (you see where this is going). At that point, I decided to be aloof towards the dog and let hubby be the one to decide if we would get involved in this poor scrawny dog's future. As if sensing exactly whom he would have to charm, the dog walked right up to hubby and sat down while giving him 'the look'. You know the one. A mixture of "I am a loving dog that will be your devoted friend for life" and "I am a poor starving, desperate beast". Well, it was well played because hubby started asking about whether or not the dog could ride in the tack room. The clincher for us both was how gentle and sweet the dog was to John. At that point, it was out of our hands because John was walking with the dog saying "My dog! My dog!" I fixed up the tack room with a towel from the B&B owner (who was so delighted that we were taking the dog home) and tied a rope around his neck so we could walk him when we stopped for gas. We packed up, fed and watered Armstrong, and set off for home. We were a little concerned about passing the Agriculture Inspection Station with a stray dog but they asked me no questions and I told them no lies.
Poor Miles when we first came home.
I unloaded Armstrong into a pasture adjacent to his cow herd and he was neither intimidated nor afraid of our cow herd so after a brief introduction through the fence, I turned him out with the cows. After some initial nosing and sniffing, he set about to checking his girls like a seasoned bull. Quite impressive for an 8 month old. Dexters can be quite precocious.
Armstrong in his new pasture.
Meanwhile, the new dog was introduced briefly to the farm and fed and watered separate from our two dogs. I bathed him and treated him for fleas as well. He was nothing but skin and bones underneath his golden fur. It was also alarming how much he just wanted to sleep. I looked at his teeth and he seemed to be a young dog. The following morning (now Monday) we took him to our vet and he was treated for extensive parasites, vaccinated, neutered and bathed twice more. He will have to go back to the vet when he is stronger to get a more complete heartworm treatment (he was a strong positive for infection). After only a few good meals, he was much more alert and hyper. His eyes shone with delight and joy as he bounced around. He had no manners, but he is catching on fast to life on a farm and how to be an inside dog as well. Our dogs have really warmed up to him these past few weeks and I can see he is becoming part of the family. We named him Miles in honor of our long trip as well as his. He was also found near Miles Road. He has gained weight very well and plays with the other dogs now. Amazingly enough, he has no food aggression type behaviors. He looks so much more alive now and he's a good dog.
Amazing difference after only three days of good meals.
We had a promising new baby bull to pick up in Church Roads, Virginia and two of our cows were being leased to Maymont Park in Richmond, Virginia. After discussing all options, we decided to do our first family road trip. Note: we do not own a minivan with any sort of entertainment center and sound-proof barrier. No, there was no way to lull our offspring into a Disney-induced, eyes glazed over, DVD coma. We left armed with some feeble toys, lots of wipes, Kleenex, snacks, water, and access to both hubby's and my I-tunes, all within easy reach during the drive. And, I thought, naively, that I was well-prepared.
John has many talents. One of which is to yell for miles on end when we do not play his favorite song 37 times in a row. In fact, I do believe the back seat of a 3/4 ton pick-up truck actually magnifies young voices so when his 37th request was refused, his wails were actually louder than stepping on the toes of 40 cats, blasting 15 trumpets, and a Blue Angels flyover all simultaneously.
I am happy to report, however, that while John had his moments, I did bring one magical toy that made the trip bearable: a soccer ball. At every stop for gas or sanity, we took John out to a grassy spot to kick the ball around and get rid of pent up energy.
Meanwhile, the cows, Erin, and Arnold, were quite well-behaved. The first night, we stopped at Mistletoe Farms in Varnville, SC. Erin and Arnold were unloaded and placed into a large 14x14 foot stall to rest. The barn was cool and dark in the June heat. We toured the miniature horse farm with the owners of the quaint little Bed and Breakfast. John was a bundle of energy after the long drive so the walk did him some good. Then, we dropped the trailer and headed into town for dinner. We ended up at a local diner sitting next to the grumpiest old sheriff's deputy I have ever seen in my life. He had to work hard at being that grumpy. The small town of Hampton, SC surely could not have had the murder rate to make that cop so bitter towards his fellow man that his face was masked in a permanent scowl. I truly believe he would make NYC homicide detectives cry. Even John inquisitively peering at him over the back of our bench did nothing to break his mask (as we hurriedly sat our child back down lest Mr. Robocop reached for his taser).
Erin and Arnold at the B&B.
Although still concerned that we might be arrested for smiling too much, we had to let John run around a bit before heading back to the B&B. Thankfully, Mr. Grumpy had urgent business elsewhere (no doubt stamping out excess mirth in some other sector of town). It was nice to return to the B&B to relax and check on the cows before bed. By early evening, there was a cool breeze flowing through the paddocks so we moved the cows outside to spend the night.
The cows loaded easily the next morning for our drive to Virginia. It was a long day and we didn't reach Maymont until after the park had closed to the public. Erin and Arnold didn't seem at all fazed by the new surroundings. The pastures were lush and spacious as was their own private paddock, complete with a shelter. We tied them up and brushed them with their new caretakers and then unloaded their hay, feed, treats and buckets. We left their halters with them as well. It was hard to leave them since I had known them since the day they were born, but they are in very good hands.
We noticed a problem with one of the trailer tires and fortunately, the baby bull's owner was able to direct us to a tire repair service the following morning. After that little adventure, we were off to Paradise Farm to pick up Armstrong. We had a chance to meet the bull's sire and dam as well as may others in Mr. Bowen's herd. Very impressive animals. Armstrong was coaxed into the trailer and we were off to South Carolina once again. We arrived late at night so we left Armstrong in the trailer and dragged ourselves off to bed.
The following morning began early again and we packed up and readied ourselves for another lovely breakfast. As we stepped out of the door, the B&B owner was watching a skinny Golden Retriever cross walk around his yard. The dog came right up to us with his tail wagging. He was subdued and dirty but very friendly. No collar or tags and the farm owner had never seen him before. He and his wife had three dogs, two of which were aggressive towards other dogs (though perfectly lovely towards people) so he told us that he would have to take the dog to the local pound. He also mentioned in passing that the pound didn't have much luck finding new homes for dogs (you see where this is going). At that point, I decided to be aloof towards the dog and let hubby be the one to decide if we would get involved in this poor scrawny dog's future. As if sensing exactly whom he would have to charm, the dog walked right up to hubby and sat down while giving him 'the look'. You know the one. A mixture of "I am a loving dog that will be your devoted friend for life" and "I am a poor starving, desperate beast". Well, it was well played because hubby started asking about whether or not the dog could ride in the tack room. The clincher for us both was how gentle and sweet the dog was to John. At that point, it was out of our hands because John was walking with the dog saying "My dog! My dog!" I fixed up the tack room with a towel from the B&B owner (who was so delighted that we were taking the dog home) and tied a rope around his neck so we could walk him when we stopped for gas. We packed up, fed and watered Armstrong, and set off for home. We were a little concerned about passing the Agriculture Inspection Station with a stray dog but they asked me no questions and I told them no lies.
Poor Miles when we first came home.
I unloaded Armstrong into a pasture adjacent to his cow herd and he was neither intimidated nor afraid of our cow herd so after a brief introduction through the fence, I turned him out with the cows. After some initial nosing and sniffing, he set about to checking his girls like a seasoned bull. Quite impressive for an 8 month old. Dexters can be quite precocious.
Armstrong in his new pasture.
Meanwhile, the new dog was introduced briefly to the farm and fed and watered separate from our two dogs. I bathed him and treated him for fleas as well. He was nothing but skin and bones underneath his golden fur. It was also alarming how much he just wanted to sleep. I looked at his teeth and he seemed to be a young dog. The following morning (now Monday) we took him to our vet and he was treated for extensive parasites, vaccinated, neutered and bathed twice more. He will have to go back to the vet when he is stronger to get a more complete heartworm treatment (he was a strong positive for infection). After only a few good meals, he was much more alert and hyper. His eyes shone with delight and joy as he bounced around. He had no manners, but he is catching on fast to life on a farm and how to be an inside dog as well. Our dogs have really warmed up to him these past few weeks and I can see he is becoming part of the family. We named him Miles in honor of our long trip as well as his. He was also found near Miles Road. He has gained weight very well and plays with the other dogs now. Amazingly enough, he has no food aggression type behaviors. He looks so much more alive now and he's a good dog.
Amazing difference after only three days of good meals.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Home from the Clay County Fair
On Wednesday, March 30th, I drove with our two year old son, John, to the livestock barn at the Clay County Fair to set up for opening day on Thursday. I used leftover St. Patrick's Day shamrock decorations to emphasize the Irish ancestry of Dexter Cattle. I also had way too much hay delivered for the ten day long fair. 30 square bales but they only needed 14 bales (and I probably fed them too much hay).
At about 4:30 Wednesday evening, I haltered and tied up all the cows to await their ride to the fair. They loaded up well considering this was the first trailer seven of the cows had ever seen and their first time away from from home. We unloaded and tied them in their assigned spots. I fed each one in an individual bucket and fed them their hay before leaving them in the care of Kyle, who has been the one helping me with their halter training and grooming.
Thursday morning, bright and early, I arrived after a rainy night and cleaned their beds, fed, and watered. Some of the cows did not want to drink. I decorated with shamrocks and put up sign tags above each cow. We also had a sweet smelling gardenia plant that my dad bought for decoration. I had a big display about Dexter Cattle and a smaller display about our farm. I rigged up the hose and set up the CD player to play Irish music once the fair opened. Once I was satisfied, John and I walked around a little before the fair opened. As soon as the first people came down the walkway, I knew that folks liked our set up. I was surprised how many people read our display. One mother even scolded her restless child by saying that since someone had gone through the trouble to make the display, it was polite to read it. LOL! I had some gifts to hand out to the kids and they went quickly. Shamrock crazy bands, stickers, necklaces and coins were snatched up by eager little hands.
Friday morning, I bathed all the cows in preparation for the day. It was the second bath for most of the cows and the first bath for the three babies. The babies did great! When baby Erin was born, she had meconium smeared on her belly so I had to bathe her when she was less than an hour old. Consequently, she was the easiest to bathe at the fair. That evening, my other helper, Miranda, arrived to watch the cows through the evening hours. I can't say enough good things about both of my helpers. They did a great job and enabled me to go home every night to be with my husband and go through our toddler's bedtime routine. I could not have done this without them.
I learned quickly that no one is afraid of our little cows. People who would never think of approaching full sized cattle walked right up and petted ours. I encouraged them to pet the babies at the end so I didn't have to worry about their feet being stepped on accidently. As far as I know, no one's toes suffered during the ten days at the fair. Many people, especially little children, were eager to feed treats to the calves and cows. Since all of our cows love treats, they were happily and gently received from little fingers.
The weekend was brisk and I met many people who enjoyed our cattle very much.
At first, I think some of the other cattle folks scoffed a bit at my little cattle, but after about 4 days, I caught a few of them petting the calves. One gentleman even said that our cows were so friendly they were more like dogs than cattle.
Monday began a pattern of late afternoon opening hours so we had some time to ourselves during the day. The steers were coming in all that day. I let Fiona and Erin run and play in the unoccupied arena before the day's events began. They had the best time bucking and sparring with each other. They even drew a small audience to witness their antics. The following day, I turned out Bonny and Arnold together and then Daisy and Cloe together. There was not an opportunity to turn out Blake or the big girls during the fair. However, Tara and Tina kicked up once when I was walking them in to eat. Naughty cows, but it was a long time to be tied up.
Overall, it was a great experience to meet, not just a lot of visitors that enjoyed our cows, but to be able to meet other cattle breeders from our area. It was fun watching the children with our cows especially. John met some new friends among the children and grandchildren of the other families who were showing or exhibiting cattle. A few times, I watched him as he walked up and down the walkway with a big grin on his face while holding hands with two little girls.
On April 10th, the trailer arrived early that Sunday morning to take the cattle home. The trailer drove them straight to one of our fresh pastures. It had rained a bit during the time the cows were away, so they had some young grasses to eat. I took off each cow's halter and turned them loose. They ran and played, each one joining the running herd. Bonny was so excited, she took off with her halter still on. Once they calmed down I fed them and removed Bonny's halter. It was good to see them run and play after being cooped up for so many days. I think they did a great job representing their breed and their relaxation time back home in their own pasture is well-deserved.
At about 4:30 Wednesday evening, I haltered and tied up all the cows to await their ride to the fair. They loaded up well considering this was the first trailer seven of the cows had ever seen and their first time away from from home. We unloaded and tied them in their assigned spots. I fed each one in an individual bucket and fed them their hay before leaving them in the care of Kyle, who has been the one helping me with their halter training and grooming.
Thursday morning, bright and early, I arrived after a rainy night and cleaned their beds, fed, and watered. Some of the cows did not want to drink. I decorated with shamrocks and put up sign tags above each cow. We also had a sweet smelling gardenia plant that my dad bought for decoration. I had a big display about Dexter Cattle and a smaller display about our farm. I rigged up the hose and set up the CD player to play Irish music once the fair opened. Once I was satisfied, John and I walked around a little before the fair opened. As soon as the first people came down the walkway, I knew that folks liked our set up. I was surprised how many people read our display. One mother even scolded her restless child by saying that since someone had gone through the trouble to make the display, it was polite to read it. LOL! I had some gifts to hand out to the kids and they went quickly. Shamrock crazy bands, stickers, necklaces and coins were snatched up by eager little hands.
Friday morning, I bathed all the cows in preparation for the day. It was the second bath for most of the cows and the first bath for the three babies. The babies did great! When baby Erin was born, she had meconium smeared on her belly so I had to bathe her when she was less than an hour old. Consequently, she was the easiest to bathe at the fair. That evening, my other helper, Miranda, arrived to watch the cows through the evening hours. I can't say enough good things about both of my helpers. They did a great job and enabled me to go home every night to be with my husband and go through our toddler's bedtime routine. I could not have done this without them.
I learned quickly that no one is afraid of our little cows. People who would never think of approaching full sized cattle walked right up and petted ours. I encouraged them to pet the babies at the end so I didn't have to worry about their feet being stepped on accidently. As far as I know, no one's toes suffered during the ten days at the fair. Many people, especially little children, were eager to feed treats to the calves and cows. Since all of our cows love treats, they were happily and gently received from little fingers.
The weekend was brisk and I met many people who enjoyed our cattle very much.
At first, I think some of the other cattle folks scoffed a bit at my little cattle, but after about 4 days, I caught a few of them petting the calves. One gentleman even said that our cows were so friendly they were more like dogs than cattle.
Monday began a pattern of late afternoon opening hours so we had some time to ourselves during the day. The steers were coming in all that day. I let Fiona and Erin run and play in the unoccupied arena before the day's events began. They had the best time bucking and sparring with each other. They even drew a small audience to witness their antics. The following day, I turned out Bonny and Arnold together and then Daisy and Cloe together. There was not an opportunity to turn out Blake or the big girls during the fair. However, Tara and Tina kicked up once when I was walking them in to eat. Naughty cows, but it was a long time to be tied up.
Overall, it was a great experience to meet, not just a lot of visitors that enjoyed our cows, but to be able to meet other cattle breeders from our area. It was fun watching the children with our cows especially. John met some new friends among the children and grandchildren of the other families who were showing or exhibiting cattle. A few times, I watched him as he walked up and down the walkway with a big grin on his face while holding hands with two little girls.
On April 10th, the trailer arrived early that Sunday morning to take the cattle home. The trailer drove them straight to one of our fresh pastures. It had rained a bit during the time the cows were away, so they had some young grasses to eat. I took off each cow's halter and turned them loose. They ran and played, each one joining the running herd. Bonny was so excited, she took off with her halter still on. Once they calmed down I fed them and removed Bonny's halter. It was good to see them run and play after being cooped up for so many days. I think they did a great job representing their breed and their relaxation time back home in their own pasture is well-deserved.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
How to Clean a Cow
Step 1: This is the most important. You must have a reason to clean your cow because there is quite a bit of work involved as cows and cleanliness are natural enemies. Perhaps you think your cow smells bad or lacks personal hygiene. Perhaps you are selling your home and want only really shiny animals grazing in your pastures. Or, like us, maybe you signed up to bring ten clean cows to the fair in two and half weeks.
Step 2: Have a friend bring a grooming chute and a blower to your place (unless you happen to own these cow grooming items yourself). This contraption is actually quite simple. It has a floor, two side bars and a simple head catch in the front with a ring to tie your cow's halter to. The blower is essentially a reverse vacuum with a long hose. It's used to blow against the cow's hair to dislodge any sand or grit left behind after they're bathed and dried. Also essential is a friend that knows exactly which wild hairs on your cow would be considered offensive and which may stay put.
Step 3: Wet your cow slowly, beginning with her hooves and moving upwards so you don't shock with a sudden spray of ice cold water. Fortunately for our cows, Extreme Makeover Cow Edition was held not only on a warm day, but the well water itself was warm. CAUTION: Do not spray your cow's face. She will not like it and bad things could happen (she could flip the chute by suddenly throwing her weight backwards).
Step 4: Find a warm, sunny place to tie your cow to dry. Make sure there is clean, thick bedding beneath her or she will do everything in her bovine power to dirty herself.
Step 5: Once she is dry, she gets the blower treatment. I was quite surprised how well our cows tolerated this. They stood quietly while their hair was blown against the grain. Maybe it feels good, like a ride in a convertible along a beach road.
Step 6: The clippers. By now, your cow has patiently stood in the grooming chute twice and tolerated very unnatural things. She has probably had it with you and your treats and would like to go some place grassy and shady to rest and chew cud in peace. So what happens next is an affront to all of cowdom. A ticklish, vibrating, metal device, which sounds remarkably like a rattling snake or angry hornet, is moved all around her shoulders, belly, and then, her face. Nope, not happening. We tried that evil plot against Tina and she put her hoof down. So she, along with all of her bovine comrades, will go to the fair cleaned up, wild offending hairs clipped, and their faces shaggy, thankyouverymuch.
Step 2: Have a friend bring a grooming chute and a blower to your place (unless you happen to own these cow grooming items yourself). This contraption is actually quite simple. It has a floor, two side bars and a simple head catch in the front with a ring to tie your cow's halter to. The blower is essentially a reverse vacuum with a long hose. It's used to blow against the cow's hair to dislodge any sand or grit left behind after they're bathed and dried. Also essential is a friend that knows exactly which wild hairs on your cow would be considered offensive and which may stay put.
Step 3: Wet your cow slowly, beginning with her hooves and moving upwards so you don't shock with a sudden spray of ice cold water. Fortunately for our cows, Extreme Makeover Cow Edition was held not only on a warm day, but the well water itself was warm. CAUTION: Do not spray your cow's face. She will not like it and bad things could happen (she could flip the chute by suddenly throwing her weight backwards).
Step 4: Find a warm, sunny place to tie your cow to dry. Make sure there is clean, thick bedding beneath her or she will do everything in her bovine power to dirty herself.
Step 5: Once she is dry, she gets the blower treatment. I was quite surprised how well our cows tolerated this. They stood quietly while their hair was blown against the grain. Maybe it feels good, like a ride in a convertible along a beach road.
Step 6: The clippers. By now, your cow has patiently stood in the grooming chute twice and tolerated very unnatural things. She has probably had it with you and your treats and would like to go some place grassy and shady to rest and chew cud in peace. So what happens next is an affront to all of cowdom. A ticklish, vibrating, metal device, which sounds remarkably like a rattling snake or angry hornet, is moved all around her shoulders, belly, and then, her face. Nope, not happening. We tried that evil plot against Tina and she put her hoof down. So she, along with all of her bovine comrades, will go to the fair cleaned up, wild offending hairs clipped, and their faces shaggy, thankyouverymuch.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Ruby Red Cow's Final Test
So, last time we left off in this bovine saga, I was mentally dressing Ruby out into various cutlets. She has come around quite a bit since then. I can get within five feet of her and she moves away quietly instead panicking. No aggressive behaviors for at least two months. She doesn't trust other people but I am tolerated fairly well. The hoof trimmer was out yesterday. When he passed by the bullpen, she panicked and ran to the other side. I thought about it quite a bit and determined that she wasn't ready so I wouldn't push her. The trimmer will be back this summer. In the meantime, for obvious reasons, I need to be able to bring this cow into our rather simple gate chute for regular vaccines and de-worming. I had not run her into the chute yet. The report from the vet school when she went to be de-horned, was that she was so nuts that she tried to climb out of everything and they had to dart her with a tranquilizer gun! She wasn't yet due for anything (thanks to me providing the de-worming drench and vaccines to the vet school for her while she was under) but this was a major test. I decided that if I couldn't handle her in our facilities, she had to go. My dear husband politely inquired about eating her just this past week.
My plan was simple:
Step 1: Bring her into the holding pen and run her into the chute with hubby standing by to help me secure it.
Step 2: Give her some feed in a bucket and leave her alone to settle down in there (hoping she doesn't climb out or tear it to pieces trying to escape).
Step 3: If she and the chute are still intact after about 20 or 30 minutes, try to see if I could get a halter on her to drag for a week with the vain hope of further gentling.
Step 4: Release the beast.
So, Step 1 and 2 went better than expected. One red cow in one homemade chute. She was not happy, but she was inside of it as opposed to tap dancing on my head or running down the road with her tail held high after tearing down two fences. So far, so good. When I came back after the requisite time, she was still struggling against the chute but when I carefully tried to slip the halter on her head, she gave me a curious look and thrust her nose right in! Surprised me so much that there was a momentary exchange of bewildered looks before I came to my senses and buckled the halter. She was still fretting about the chute so I started talking to her and slowly began to stroke her back. It was the first time I've ever touched her red coat. After about five minutes of gently petting her on both sides, she quieted down. I let her smell my hands (which smelled like her now) and then let her out of the chute. She had earned her ticket into the regular herd. I turned her out with the 15 month old babies (Bonny, Cloe, Daisy and Arnold). I watched the little scuffles as rank was determined. At the end of it, she was being quietly worshiped by all the babies. She looks quite content to be with them. All are on equal ground because they all have halters with trailing leads. I won't try to touch Ruby's until she's taught herself for about a week by stepping on it. I don't know if the halter-breaking refresher will work, but she has earned a spot in the herd nonetheless.
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