As I sit here writing this, the wind is whipping around the house and it is raining, just above freezing. The livestock are all tucked away in the barn or huddled up under the trees. My toes are finally thawing out and thanks to my new heated gloves, my fingers are faring even better. My coat is hanging on a chair to dry and my mud caked boots are finally at rest for the day by the garage door.
Today was a tough one. One of those days that made me question everything about the lifestyle. It started out before dawn checking on a cow that had started labor last night. She hadn’t made progress and was still struggling. I didn’t see any evidence of imminent birth and after a while you just get a feel for when things are wrong. I just started raising calves, in fact this is my first official calving season. We had a random calf here and there but this was the first group calving. Two little youngsters had already joined us and were thriving. This one was not making a timely appearance. I knew from sheep raising experience what the signs of trouble were. And this was trouble.
So I grabbed Copper and we sorted the soon to be mother from her best friend and her calf and she waddled compliantly into the trailer. Hmmm. That was too easy. But that’s where the easy ended for the day. I loaded Copper up, called the vet to tell them we were on our way and headed out. It wasn’t raining, yet.
For the last ten days we have been hearing the most psychotic weather reports. Everyone had a forecast and they were all different. We were hearing predictions from a few drops of rain to torrential rain and up to 12 inches of snow mixed with sleet and ice. As we headed to town the rain drops started falling lightly. The cloudy sky loomed above and felt ominous and heavy.
We pulled into the vets office’s large animal unloading area. By this time the cow was laying down in the trailer trying to give birth again. We couldn’t get her on her feet and the vet and the tech decided to work on her in the trailer. Both the vet and the tech were coughing and they informed me that the whole office had the flu and the tech still had a fever. I deftly moved away and made a mental note to load up on the vitamin C and antioxidants when I got home. They worked and pulled and in the struggle, at some point, the cow ended up outside the trailer on the concrete alley. After a lot of effort and really hard work, the oversized calf made its appearance. Sadly, she wasn’t alive. We all took a moment to grieve the loss, and the rain came down harder at that moment and we all felt it mirrored our mood.
We had to get the cow back in the trailer to go home. She was exhausted. We tried to get her up and we pushed and pulled with no result. So I suggested that we let her lay there and rest for a few minutes. I went in front and paid our bill and found out that the calf weighed 60 pounds! I am raising mini cattle. This mama is an Aberdeen cow, which is a smaller type of black angus cow. That is just a huge calf and there was no way we could have handled that at home. It’s just bad luck sometimes.
I went back out to the situation that awaited me, and by that time all my assistance had disappeared back into the building. I was left alone to get her into the trailer. I didn’t know how I was going to get her up by myself. So, I decided I wasn’t going to do it myself. I grabbed Copper and he was instantly more interested in the smells of birth than the cow lying on the ground. As soon as she saw Copper she perked up. I was optimistic when I saw her response to him. She certainly hadn’t taken us humans that seriously. And so I got Copper’s attention. He pulled himself away from his smelling investigation, and turned to the cow. He put pressure towards her and softly nipped her side. She popped up and hopped in the trailer! The three of us humans were poking and prodding her and all it took was a soft nip from Copper- the boss, to get her up and moving. Not sure why I didn’t pull him out sooner! I should know better by now.
We headed home somberly. I unloaded the mama cow in the brand new barn into a stall with hay and water and lots of shavings. Then I started my morning chores. It was noon by the time we got home from the vet. Everyone (well mostly the goats and ducks) were registering their complaints of late breakfast. I finished feeding and the rain let up.
We started working on the storm prep that hadn’t gotten finished from the day before. The storm was expected to roll in around dark today. I let the sheep and cattle out of the arena so the cattle could seek shelter in the trees in the back. The sheep just like being out of the arena for a while.
The contractors were here racing to finish the barn. I was frustrated because it was supposed to have been finished the weekend before. I just found out that the builder hadn’t followed my specifications and the stall sizes were off so the panels wouldn’t fit right. So we had to put up a temporary solution until custom panels could be made. I was near tears at this point. The barn had taken so much longer than promised, my stalls were going to be messed up and they were not finished before this storm headed our way.
I walked into the house for lunch and my husband was dealing with a water leak / septic backup issue in the house. Did I mention it was one of those hard days? I just wanted to eat and take a short nap, but it wasn’t to be. With plumbers and contractors running around the house, I found a little corner to eat my lunch and took a little sitting rest where I ended up working on some very frustrating business issues that I won’t bore you with here. I loaded up on my vitamin C and antioxidants and said a little prayer that the flu wouldn’t find a home in my body.
Finally, everyone left with promises to return the following day to fix the issue and finish the barn. I took a shower to wash off the flu germs from the vet visit. And took a short nap.
I woke up in time to start evening chores and last minute storm prep. The barn was ready. We had hay and shavings laid out. I let the goats free into the chicken and duck area so they could take shelter in the small barn. That area also contained my three quarantined heifers, one of which had surprised us with a tiny baby a few days prior.
Copper and Flynn and I moved the rams (who live with the horse normally) in with the goats. I hoped they would all find a way to squeeze into the small shed.
My biggest concern at this point, was my horse, King. I have only had him a few months, but one thing I have learned is he doesn’t like metal roofs and rain on metal roofs. He stresses out. The last time we had an experience under a metal roof he threw an instructor when it started raining. And I had to bail off him when it started coming down harder. He doesn’t like rain on metal roofs.
My barn is very tall and so the sound is somewhat muffled, but I was still worried. It had started to rain again and the wind was picking up. It was cold. I had to bribe King into the barn with food. Fortunately, he loves food and he trusts me. We got inside and he was distracted with dinner. Every now and then the rain would get louder and he spooked and hopped away. I stayed with him for a good long time talking to him and helping him calm down. Me and the dogs were all hanging out in the new barn until the rain let up. I noticed King was shivering. I worried about that for a while. After a bit, he stopped shivering. He’s a smart fellow and finally decided being in the barn was less scary than being cold was miserable. I was greatly relieved.
During our time together, I looked out the barn door and could see the sheep down at the back of the pasture.
I don’t know if everyone’s sheep do this or if it’s just my sheep, but they get stuck in the dark, much like the chickens. Wherever they end up at dusk is where they stay. Usually they end up at the arena where I put them up at night. But occasionally they get “stuck” elsewhere and one of my dogs and I have to go “unstick” them.
The problem with them being that far away at night is twofold. The number one problem is coyotes. We have a lot of them and the drought has made them hungry. The number two problem is the area where they were stuck tends to flash flood in heavy rain.
The near freezing rain let up a bit and I put up all the dogs, except Copper. It was dusk. I stood on the hill and told him to “Look Back” and “Go Bye.” He took off along the north fence line heading towards the sheep. He couldn’t see them when he took off, but he knows when I send him, there’s something out there to find.
Something hit me at that moment while I watched my dog heading towards the sheep in the field. I flashed back to more than five years ago when he was a little less than two years old. It was winter. I had just lambed (like within the last 24 hours) and we had to move the sheep out of the sleet and rain into a building they had never been in before in the dark, with brand new babies. None of my other Aussies would put pressure on the babies, so I grabbed the youngster, Copper. And that night he proved to me he was special. The work he did with very little training and an over abundance of instinct still to this day amazes me everytime I think about it.
Tonight reminded me of that night. He is older and wiser but he still leaves me amazed.
It’s funny what you think about while you are watching your best dog friend and most useful ranch hand heading out to do their work. I know I brag about this dog a lot. I can’t help it. Every time I think there’s nothing else he can do to amaze me, he does. I worry about the dogs that will come after him. They have big paws to fill. I am not sure there’s another dog that can do what he does. I sure hope there will be because without that, I am not sure this other stuff is possible or even worth it.
We got the sheep up and I decided King and mama cow could share their accommodations in the barn with the range maggots. While we loaded the sheep into the barn, I heard a goat screaming in protest. Under normal circumstances I ignore their constant complaints, but I wanted to make sure they could all get under the shelter tonight.
I clicked on the flashlight as it was totally dark by this time. The rain started up again. Copper and I headed to investigate the goat situation. It was all good. The complaining goat was quiet when I got there. I looked around for the newest calf to make sure she was under shelter. And thank God I heeded the scream of the goat. The new little calf had gotten her tiny self trapped in one of the chicken tractors, separated from her mama. We got her back to her mama and I said a little prayer of thanks. It would have most likely not turned out well for the little calf in the rain without her mama. Not everything about goats is evil all the time!
We left the area and closed the gate behind us. I headed toward the house with my soggy stinky best bud, fed the dogs and got all the dogs tucked away in a warm spot for the night. My soggy stinky friend earned his dinner tonight.
My husband looked at me over dinner and said, “Today was one of the hard days.” Today was a lot of work. It was cold. It was heartbreaking and it was hard. Today made me question why I am doing what I do. Today made me wonder if I want to keep doing it.
In the final evaluation, today was hard, and the rest of this week will be messy and rainy and cold and hard, but I won’t be alone in the work. My dogs, especially Copper will be there ready to be wet and cold with me, desperate to help me do something. They are all always so very excited when they see me put on my boots and head outside. So when it gets hard, I relish in their excitement and absolute satisfaction in being with me and doing what we do.
