Our bulls? Bad boys? Kruger and Romeo, who will follow Bill anywhere with a bucket of range cubes?

Our two bulls are usually mild-mannered unless they are near each other or another bull, or don’t have plenty of female companionship to keep them occupied at their life’s purpose. Actually, they’re just normal bulls.
​ 
Romeo

Kruger

Side Note: Naming a bull Romeo may seem self-explanatory, but he actually is descended from a line of bulls that have Romeo as part of their name. Kruger was not named after former K-State basketball star and coach, Lon Kruger, or any of the long line of athletes to come out of Silver Lake, KS. He is a descendant of Mr. Krugerrand, one of the top-rated Angus bulls. This line is known for siring low birth weight calves, also known as a calving-ease bull.
 
Since we do fall calving, the bulls breed our cows at the ranch where they all spend the winter. The boys are occupied and deliriously happy for a couple of months. Then, the breeding slows down but not the testosterone production, and boredom sets in. They realize, “Hey! There’s competition here! I’m gonna kick his butt and let him know who rules!”
 
In my book, I called this “Bored Bull Syndrome.”  To keep these expensive, egotistical, beefy hunks from seriously injuring each other, when Bill is certain all the cows have been bred, he loans out the bulls to a couple of neighbors to breed their cows.
 
After we finished working and hauling cattle a few weeks ago, Bill rearranged and reinforced the corral pens in preparation for bringing the bulls home from neighbors. They would need a “getting reacquainted” period after not seeing each other since early last spring. Bill put them in adjacent corral pens, one with a cow and the other with a replacement heifer to hopefully provide feminine calming influence, i.e., to keep them from getting bored and going at each other. The cow hadn’t yet calved and the replacement heifer had already come into heat a few days prior, so they were provided as company, not for breeding.
 
It didn’t take long for the boys to figure out their female companions were decoys, not provided for their breeding pleasure. We heard them bellowing bull smack at each other. When I went to the corral to take photos of the bulls in their pens, I found fence panels scattered on the ground and the boys engaged in head-to-head combat, pushing each other back and forth. 

Bill was gone and I wasn’t about to interfere and risk getting maimed. Neither were the cow and replacement heifer; they stood back out of the way. Within a couple of minutes, Romeo backed down, allowing Kruger to claim bull supremacy. Fortunately, no blood was shed and there were no apparent injuries, although Romeo was breathing heavily. When Bill returned, he rebuilt and refortified the pens.

​A few days later, Bill hauled the bad boys to the ranch.

Preparations I described in my last post were complete. The corral pens were reconfigured and strengthened. All vaccines and other medications ordered and received, including two new hypodermic syringes. Bill repurposed and remodeled a cheap thrift store cooler to hold and protect syringes during the working process. Our farm clothes were clean, although that wouldn’t last long! And we had my tasty homemade granola for quick breakfasts.
 
Time for the Main Event: working and hauling most of our cow/calf pairs to the ranch where they would spend the winter. The job would be grueling and stressful for both humans and bovines. We would minimize stress to the animals as much as possible. But it had to be done.

We would also deal with an unexpected near-catastrophe near the end of an already long day—a story for a future blog post.
 
Here’s the definition of “working” cattle from my book:
 
Working Cattle 101 - Working cattle is a catch-all term in Farmerese that includes one or more of the following hands-on procedures performed on cattle: vaccinating or administering other medications; castrating bulls, either surgically or by placing rubber bands around their testicles; dehorning; preg-checking; ear tagging; spraying with fly repellent; branding; and applying Pour-On, a de-worming and de-licing solution poured on the animal, hence its name.
​
We did all of the above except dehorning, preg-checking and spraying with fly repellent as none of these procedures was necessary, and we used the rubber band procedure to castrate the bull calves. My duties as ranch hand included:

• Open and shut gates to pastures; 
• Hold the trailer rear gate open when we loaded cattle; 
• Prod cows along the alleyway to queue up behind the working chute;
• Insert a piece of steel pipe across the alleyway behind the cow “on deck” to keep her from backing away from the chute; 
• Hand hypodermic needles, banders, and ear-taggers to Bill. Most of the cows and calves were already tagged, but Bill tweaked his numbering system this year which required changing a few; 
• “Gofer” to the barn or house for anything we needed but didn’t have; 
• Heat up a quick lunch for Bill to eat on the road as he hauled a trailer-load to the ranch

Notice “photographer” isn’t on that list. Since I’ve become more actively involved as a Cattle-Working Apprentice, I don’t have time to take a lot of pictures. But I did manage to snap a few. For a more pictorial and humorous account of working cattle, please refer to my blog post of November 29, 2013 at http://www.fromhighheelstogumboots.com/gumboot-tracks-blog/archives/11-2013.
 
When working cattle, we try to minimize the stress for both humans and bovines as much as possible. We encourage the cows and calves through the process with herding sticks applied gently, then escalate to firmly and, finally, a slap or foot-plant in the rump roast only when necessary. Likewise, we speak in normal tones and slightly increase the decibels only when the animal gets stubborn. We avoid running or making quick movements, any action with the potential to startle the already-nervous animals. Even though our cows are fairly tame—those that aren't don't last long here—the working process is unsettling for them, creating the potential for injuring themselves or us.
 
Bill prefers not to use outside help. The cows know him and respond better if strangers aren’t involved. Many cattlemen prefer to hire a veterinarian for the medical tasks and recruit extra help to complete this project as quickly as possible. Bill can administer injections and band bulls so doesn’t need to hire a vet. The main disadvantage to his method is with only two of us to work over 60 cow/calf pairs, the process takes several days—long, exhausting days!
 
Now that you know what’s involved, here’s how the week went.
 
In addition to our own pastures, we rent five others within a two-mile radius of our property. Every morning for a week or so prior to our working day, Bill fed a small square bale of hay and a bucket of grain to the cows in the catch pen area in each pasture so they became accustomed to entering the pen. On the morning they were to be worked, he shut the gate behind them. He came home, traded the mini-truck for the farm truck and stock trailer, I jumped in the cab and we went back to the pasture. I opened and closed gates and directed his back-up maneuvers to the catch pen gate. The rear gate on the trailer is a swing gate and I held it open while Bill herded cows and calves into the trailer. Some degree of persuasion was necessary to convince them to board the bus. Maybe they don’t like to travel so soon after breakfast! When enough animals entered to fill the front compartment, Bill shut the interior gate, usually pushing against cows trying to back up. Then he filled the rear compartment, using the swing gate to butt-shove indecisive stragglers.
 
Once boarding was complete, we went home to unload so we could return and reload. How many times we return depends on how many cows and calves we can convince to take a ride on each trip. At this point, we just randomly load; it’s not necessary to match family pairs since we’re taking them home to be worked. But later, for the trip to the ranch, family pairs will be hauled together.
 
Once we finished hauling home the day’s quota, usually fourteen pairs, Bill divided the cows and calves into separate pens which created separation anxiety between mamas and children!

We gathered up all the supplies, filled syringes and assembled everything on the working table, a repurposed leaky stock tank turned upside down.

The cows were worked first. Bill cut four from the holding pen and put them in a small staging pen. He opened the gate into an alleyway so they could proceed in single file to queue up behind the squeeze chute.

Of course, this didn’t always happen in an orderly fashion. Somebody in the group may have remembered what happened the last time she queued up behind the chute. Apprehension ensued, resulting in backward movement in the alleyway. Sometimes, gentle means of persuasion was ramped up to firm and ultimately extra firm!
 
Once the lead cow advanced to the squeeze chute, it was my job to ram a steel pipe through the alleyway behind her to keep her from shifting into reverse. I had to be quick and accurate with the steel pipe barricade. If the cow suddenly backed up and hit the end of the pipe before I secured it in place, the end I was holding could be wrenched out of my hand and smack me.
 
When the cow entered the chute, Bill closed the head gate around her neck—gently—and shut the rear chute panels. She received two injections, Pour-On was applied, long tail hair trimmed and, if necessary, her tag replaced to correspond to the new numbering system. As Chief Medical Assistant, I handed Bill each syringe or instrument. When treatment was complete, the cow was released into a post-treatment holding pen.
 
Then we advanced the next patient into the chute. Once we got these initial four cows worked, Bill herded four more into the staging pen and the process repeated until all the cows were worked.
 
Then we stared on the calves.
 
By opening a gate, the staging pen can be enlarged to hold all 14 or so calves. Bill herded two calves along the alleyway and into the squeeze chute. Instead of using both the head and rear gates, we only closed the head gate to keep the calves from going through. Bill stood behind the calves just inside the open rear gate to work them. This is when poop happens!

The bulls were castrated by placing thick rubber bands around their testicles with an instrument called, appropriately, a bander. It takes a fair amount of skill to get the band in place around both testicles. The procedure isn’t invasive like surgical removal and much less painful. Blood flow to the testicles is gradually stopped and they eventually just fall off.

The calves all received three injections and Pour-On. If renumbering was necessary, the old tag was removed and a new one inserted. Once treatment was complete, I opened the head gate and the two calves exited into a post-treatment pen. Bill herded two more calves into the chute and the process repeated.
 
Once all the cows and calves were worked, Bill was ready to re-sort, load and haul. Rather than random loading, this time family pairs were matched together. If for some reason Bill couldn’t make the second trip to the ranch the same day as the first one, at least family pairs would be together.
 
The stock trailer holds seven pairs. Bill separated seven cows into one holding pen and their calves into another one. Likewise, the other seven cows and calves were sorted into two pens. Calves were loaded first. Bill herded them along an alleyway and into the front compartment of the trailer. Transporting cows and calves in separate compartments prevents calves from getting stepped on and hurt by cows if the load shifts.
 
While Bill herded the calves to the trailer, he let the cows watch their babies disappear from the closed gate into the alleyway. Once the calves were secured in the front compartment and he turned the cows loose, they couldn’t get in that trailer fast enough! No indecision or hesitation!
 
The trip to the ranch takes about 45 minutes. Unloading was much simpler: Bill drove into a pasture, opened the trailer gate and everyone rushed out. Then he returned home for the second load. He didn't finish this trip until after dark. While he was gone, Cricket and I took our evening walk and checked the cows and calves in our own pastures to see if there were any concerns. On one walk during that week, we discovered the near-catastrophe I mentioned earlier. Details later.
 
When Bill returned home—after dark—we fed the bottle calves. Bill did a quick hose-down of the stock trailer and staggered into the house around 8:00. His day started around 6:30 that morning.

That was just the first day. We got up to repeat this whole process the next day. However, due to strong winds gusting up to about 60 miles per hour, we just worked cattle; Bill didn’t haul them until the next morning. By then, we both needed a break so we didn’t work any cattle that day. Bill made adjustments to a catch pen in a rented pasture we would haul from the next day. I went to town for provisions.
 
Friday morning, we started in again on the cow/calf pairs from the last rented pasture. On Saturday, the last day, we worked cows and calves from our own pastures—no hauling from other pastures, a big time-savings. After five long days, this year’s cattle working project was almost complete. Three projects remaining would be done the next week: Eleven replacement heifers spending the winter here were worked. Our two bulls, loaned out to a couple of neighbors to breed their cows, were brought home for a few days, then hauled to the ranch. Finally, one more load of cows that calved late were worked and hauled.
 
On Sunday, my schedule returned to normal, and by “normal” I mean doing laundry—six extra-large loads. Three of these were dirty, manure-y farm clothes, some of which required a pre-wash hose-off outside! You may not be able to see all the jeans in the pictures, but there were ten pair!

​I have more stories to tell from our cattle-working week: our normally tame but bad boy bulls’ shenanigans as they became reacquainted after several months apart; the near-catastrophe I mentioned; a potentially disastrous repeat of the adventure featured in my book chapter, “From Piece of Cake to Piece of Cow Pie,” that had a very different outcome; and more. Stay tuned…

How do you spend a glorious fall day? If you’re the Hilberts, you recycle manure!
 
Huh?
 
I’ll issue a warning at this point: If you are squeamish or have a weak stomach, you don’t want to read any further or look at the pictures. This is another one of those down-and-dirty farm topics that I tackle head-on. It’s standard procedure on many cattle farms, and why waste all that great fertilizer?
 
Or, you could pretend I didn’t mention manure, and just tell yourself what you’re seeing in the pictures is mud and hay, which is what it looks like anyway.
 
Further, in order to avoid risking my General Audience rating, I’ve refrained from making the obvious jokes. This required considerable restraint! The subject matter is “manure” not $#&%.
 
This is Mt. Manure, elevation 4 feet, 6 inches.

Mt. Manure was bladed into existence by Bill in early April from manure, mud and hay that accumulated in the lot where he fed grain and hay to a few cows and the replacement heifers last winter. The combination makes great natural fertilizer for pastures, fields and gardens.

​Some of the calves discovered the mountain was a fun playground for games of “King of Mt. Manure.” Others just hung out at the top.

One of the items on Bill’s list of fall tasks was to dismantle the mountain and distribute it wherever he needed fertilizer. This task required two pieces of equipment: the tractor and the manure spreader.
 
Manure Spreader 101 – A farm implement that distributes manure. It looks like a trailer with a row of large rotating blades on the back end. Our spreader is powered by a power take-off—resembles a drive shaft—from the tractor. The first photo below shows the inside of the spreader. The strips of flat chain linkage on both sides move the apron, the horizontal iron slats, along the floor of the trailer from front to back, carrying the load of manure to the blades where it’s flung out, creating a…um…manure-storm! 

The tractor served a dual function: scoop up the totally-organic-no-artificial-additives fertilizer and drop the load into the spreader.

​Once the spreader was full, Bill hooked it up to the tractor and began the distribution phase.

​I did a ride-along to get a front-to-back perspective. 

This year's Mt. Manure has been fully recycled and the ground bladed level.

​Now you know the down-and-dirty of recycling manure!

It’s a fact of life in a beef cattle operation: At some point after they are weaned, those cute little calves will be sold. We treat some calves like pets by naming them or hand-feeding “treats”—range cube protein pellets. A few may temporarily have to be bottle-fed if there is a cow/calf bonding issue, the cow becomes sick or has a milk-flow deficiency. But the bottom line is the day will come when they are loaded up, trucked to an area feedlot and sold to the owner.

I understand this step in the progression of our operation; have always understood it. Usually, I’m OK about it. I’ll keep fond memories of my favorites, flip through that mental photo album, chuckle at the calves’ cute antics and relive the adventures featuring one of them in a starring role.

But this year has been different. The graduating class included five calves we became attached to because circumstances created the need for more extensive hands-on contact. We kept them and their mamas at home during the winter, instead of sending them to the ranch with the rest of the pairs. 
 
Remember the twins, Freddie and Flossie, namesakes of the younger set of Bobsey twins from the children's book series? We’ve had twins before, but for the first time this year, we were able to keep both calves because the mom, #67, claimed both.

The days of the departures arrived. The 31 steers, including Freddie, spent the summer on pasture at the ranch where the cows and calves are wintered and would be trucked from there to the feedlot. The lot owner brought two trucks and trailers and we met them at the ranch with our rig. My last blog post, “Head ‘Em Up, Move ‘Em Out!” describes our cattle drive to get the steers from the pasture to the holding pen.

For the first time, I decided to ride along when the calves were hauled to the feedlot. Call it “The Long Good-Bye” but I felt compelled to go. Besides, I had never experienced this aspect of our cattle operation. I didn’t see Freddie because, once Bill got the calves sorted into groups that fit into the trailers, the loading went fast. Once the three trailers were loaded, we headed out.

OK…so it wasn’t the old TV western “Rawhide.”

No Rowdy Yates, the young impulsive cowboy played by Clint Eastwood, or Gil Favor, the trail boss played by Eric Fleming.

Instead of driving hundreds of cattle along the Chisholm Trail from Texas to a rail head in Abilene, Kansas, where they were sold and herded onto an eastbound train, we drove a herd of 31 yearling steers from a rented pasture…

along a mile of gravel road…

through a left-hand turn at an intersection…

through a gate into a hay field…

where the lush green regrowth invited a quick snack and was too tempting to pass up...

then through another gate into a pasture...

and into a large holding pen in the owner’s corral…

to be loaded into trailers and driven to an area feedlot the next day.

Our cattle drive was led by Bill in his pickup holding open the driver’s side door, rattling a plastic bucket with grain and yelling, “S’calf! S’calf!” The farm paparazza, me, leaned out the tailgate and documented the event, snapping digital pics, not tintypes.

The land owner rode drag—brought up the rear—on his ATV, shagged strays and kept those little dogies movin’.

Instead of cowboy drovers on horseback, we had the “Quad Squad” – the land owner’s neighbors on ATVs.

They blocked two roads at an intersection and rode the flanks when we turned into the pasture and headed for the corral.

After the gate swung shut behind them, the steers were treated to a generous portion of grain in feed bunks.

At trail's end, instead of carousing in a local saloon, tossing down shots of watered down rotgut whiskey, we relaxed with beers.

Yippee ki yay o! Git along little dogies!

How much does one of these large round bales weigh?

We’ll get to that later. But first, let’s bring them home from the field.

I’ve taken photos of this process in the past. But, I didn’t have anything better to do while Bill loaded the bales on the hauler, so here are more photos.

For this shot, I stood in the bed of the truck against the cab. Bill stabs the bale with the bale fork on his tractor, lifts it up, then motors over to the hauler. As he approaches the back end of the hauler, he lifts the bale at an angle, pulls in close and sets it down.

Then he roars off to get another bale. When he returns, he sets the bale on the rails and pushes it forward until the front end of the tractor is at the rear end of the hauler. He’ll repeat until there are seven bales loaded.

Now it’s time to go home and dump the load. Unless this is the last load, Bill will drive and I’ll ride shotgun. But for the final trip, I drive, Cricket rides shotgun and Bill follows on the tractor with another bale on the fork. On this particular evening, a storm was moving in from the southwest. When we got home, I grabbed the camera and headed to the end of the driveway to catch some photos.

Now, let’s weigh a bale. Actually, we’d already done the weighing earlier when Bill was calibrating the baler computer to figure out what diameter of bale to program. The previous owner of this farm had a scale, but Bill hadn’t seriously used it until now. He set a bale on the platform.

The actual scale weights are housed in a metal box with a drop-down door. You can just see the top of the box over the bale. Now, here’s the cool part—the scale works just like those at the doctor’s office (non-digital variety).

So, how much did this bale weigh? 1,150 pounds!

Bill decided he wanted to check the accuracy of the scale, so he asked Cricket and I to step onboard with the bale. Then, he asked how much I weigh. I mentally subtracted five pounds and told him. So did Cricket! He adjusted the weights to balance the scale and arrived at a total very close to the bale weight plus mine and Cricket’s. “Very close” was good enough for him.

He’ll never miss those ten pounds!

Hay season is over for us…finally! With the frequent rains and high humidity, getting hay put up dry has been a challenge requiring almost precision timing. Bill has the National Weather Service phone number on speed dial! Not that we’re complaining about the rain this year—not after a couple years of drought.

Bill has a different round baler this year and it will do either twine tie or net wrap. His old one was twine tie only. The debate between net wrappers vs. twine tiers keeps farmers and ranchers entertained during rainy days:

• The net wrap process is quicker, saving time and, therefore, using less gas in the tractor.
  
• Net-wrapping leaves less waste under the baler during the wrapping process because twine tie requires more revolutions of the bale to get it tied, resulting in more hay falling out of the baler.
  
• Net-wrapped bales shed water much better than twine-tied, a particular advantage this year with the frequent rains. This also means less spoilage for bales stored outside.
  
• Net wrap is more expensive than twine but, in the opinion of the die-hard net-wrappers, the other benefits outweigh the extra cost. And there are websites that will help a farmer calculate the cost savings.
  
• Biggest disadvantage to using net wrap is feeding during ice and snow conditions when net freezes to the bale. It can be difficult to remove without also pulling off a layer of hay. Someone suggested beating on the bale with a baseball bat. So, dig out that Louisville Slugger from your Little League days and dust off that home run swing to break the ice and loosen the wrap! 
  

The “net” result, in Bill’s opinion, is net-wrap wins hands-down!

I did a ride-along with Bill to watch the baling process on-screen from the tractor cab. Yes, it’s computerized! This is a shot of the screen while hay is being pulled into the baler. There are two columns that represent the right and left halves of the bale-to-be. The goal is for both columns to fill evenly so both halves of the bale will be the same size instead of lop-sided. This shot is blurred due to the bumpy ride—I was using both hands to steady the camera while trying to balance myself to avoid falling across Bill's lap and hitting numerous levers, some hydraulic, which would result in too many disasters too horrible to contemplate! Also picked up some serious glare on the screen.

The number in the lower right corner of the screen represents the desired diameter of the bale and Bill has it preset to 57 inches. When the magic number is reached, an alarm screeches that signals Bill to stop and let the bale wrap. The little bale icon in the center on the left side of the screen below indicates the bale is wrapping.

When the wrapping process is complete, a different little icon appears on the left side of the screen to indicate the baler is ready to eject. This was a different bale than the last photo. See where the diameter gained a half inch?

While I was waiting for bales to wrap I amused myself by taking pictures out the front of the tractor...

…and out the back, looking down behind the tractor at the hay being raked into the baler.

Notice the double wind row of cut hay in the view out the front of the tractor. Unfortunately, I don't have an action shot of the rake that sweeps the cut hay into this configuration. Maybe next year. Little square bales require only a single wind row. 

Thanks for the ride, Bill! Now, let’s go see what the process looks like from outside the tractor. It’s not really much different than watching a twine tie bale eject. The back of the baler rises, the bale rolls out…

…and gets a kick in the butt to roll away from the baler so the top doesn’t come down on it.

Voila! A net-wrapped bale!

For comparison, here are some twine-tied bales:

See how neat and tidy the net-wrapped bales are? Although that’s not really the issue here!

How much does one of these bales weigh? We’ll look at that soon in...

Recently, I was gazing out my “Window on the World,” aka the window over my kitchen sink, when I spotted a small flock of wild turkeys near the far end of the native grass pasture. Even from that distance, the dark brown birds are easy to spot this time of year in the new, bright green grass. In fact, they show up so well that I could see what appeared to be two toms strutting their stuff, plumage unfurled, to impress four females. Two tom turkeys in the same area, like two bulls in the same pasture, will work it out between themselves to establish which one is the dominant male; and often there will be a skirmish involved. But everything looked quiet. Maybe one was a jake, a young male, earning his apprentice breeding certification from a journeyman or master tom.

I grabbed the binoculars for a closer voyeuristic look at the turkey dating ritual. Remember in my book chapter, “Bovine Dating and Mating Habits,” how I described our voyeurism during breeding season of cattle. The two testosterone toms were doing slow turns from side to side, like body builders vying for the title of “Mr. Beefcake America.”

The hens were milling around in a group, taking in the show. Suddenly, they about-faced and headed for the timber. The toms deflated their plumage and followed. Hmmm!

The binoculars weren’t powerful enough for me to see into the timber, ending my turkey voyeurism episode.

Again looking out my “Window on the World,” I saw this box turtle trekking along the driveway, possibly headed north toward the corn field. Cricket was also watching it with rapt attention until Bill cautioned “Leave it alone.” The turtle was a little photo-shy at first so I moved out of its line of vision. The legs and head popped back out and it continued its trek undisturbed to the field. 

Our evening walks in early spring often yield interesting treasures of nature. Recently, I scored this seven-point half-rack.

Not to be outdone, Cricket found a leg bone. Unsure whether or not it’s bovine, but it certainly wasn’t from any of ours.

Bill didn’t find any treasures on this trip, but last year he found a full ten-point rack.

Later, on another walk, I found this vacated mobile home. Assumed the former resident snail was deceased.

Turkey feathers are a frequent find in the timber. We have a beer mug full!

Some treasures, like these wild violets (on the left), grow in our yard. I love these and eagerly look forward to their appearance each year. I also love lilacs!

In the spring, Cricket is transformed from our mild-mannered, lovable Golden Retriever into The Mole-inator! This year, she’s looking to break her record of 13 from a year ago.

We were afraid the lack of moisture during the winter and early spring might result in a disappointing morel season. But we finally received some much-needed, although not enough, rain in mid-April and made a couple of good hauls. Tramping through the timber, eyes glued to the ground not only looking for the little fungal delicacies but also for snakes—venomous or otherwise; crawling into the middle of a thicket of sticker bushes to grab three ‘shrooms; getting whacked in the head by low-hanging branches; and, providing a happy hour “Bloody June” cocktail for the ticks to suck up…it doesn’t get any better!

Our irises have started to bloom, beginning with the miniatures.

The next to bloom is one we call the “Antique Iris,” because starts have been handed down in my family on my dad’s side since before 1900.

Our gorgeous hybrid irises are now blooming! 

The pastures have been burned; the fences checked and repaired. The next spring task is to wean last fall’s calves from their mothers. Weaning creates separation anxiety among the cows and calves for a few days. However, beginning last year, our neighbors are spared the high decibel levels of bawling. As I explained in my post, “Welcome Home, Ladies! We Missed You!” on April 27, 2014, our calves are weaned at the ranch where the pairs spend the winter. Once weaning is complete, the steers remain at the ranch in a pasture we rent from the owner, and the cows and heifers are transported to our pasture and those we rent in our neighborhood.

Bill uses a couple of weaning options to reduce the stress to both cows and calves, resulting in healthier animals when the process is complete: weaning according to the “Moonsigns” schedule and fenceline weaning.

Bill determines the dates of weaning using the “Moonsigns” schedules available from The Farmer’s Almanac and some garden centers. The latter source also provides a moon sign garden planting schedule. Some cattlemen believe the weaning process is easier and less stressful during certain phases of the moon. The recommended time this year was between April 8 and 14.

In fenceline weaning, the cow/calf pairs are separated into adjacent pastures or large pens with substantial fences or panels between them. The cows and calves can still see each other and touch noses, but the calves can’t access the teats. The calves experience less stress—less bawling and fence-walking—which pays off in healthier calves with better weight gain. Hay and grain are given to them daily.

Last Friday was “Weaning Day.” Bill and the ranch owner separated the cow/calf pairs, and put the calves one at a time through a restraining chute so they could be given vaccinations. Then the calves were released into their new pen next to the cows. The cows’ pen opens into a pasture. For the first couple of days, the cows stayed pretty close to the separating fence panels between the pens. Gradually, they moseyed away to the pasture, spending less time in the pen.

That evening, the ranch owner had a commitment and couldn't do the evening feeding so Bill, Cricket and I drove to the ranch to feed.

While Bill fed hay and grain to the calves, I snapped pictures. 

Here are the calves. You can see the cows at the gate in the background.

The white calf is Snowball. His mother is Sweet Pea, our one Charolais-mix cow.

Some of the moms are more interested in me than their calves. Sweet Pea is in the middle of the picture. A concerned, bawling mom is at the fence.

This picture shows Hereford, the red and white cow in the background, one of our favorites.

The calves are eating hay and grain Bill put in the feed bunks.

“Hey, look! A dessert cup!” Suzy Q, daughter of Creedence and granddaughter of Proud Mary, thought she found a treat. It’s actually a supplemental mineral/protein tub. They can lick it, similar to a salt block.

Bill and the ranch owner talked on Monday. After three days, most of the bawling stopped, the calves weren't pacing the fenceline and the cows were spending more time in the pasture. Because it rained over the weekend the lot was muddy, so he planned to turn the calves out to pasture the next day.