Archive for Life on the Farm

Pet Peeve #1: Vegetarian Fed

Sometimes there are things that get under your skin and pet peeve #1 is one of them.  Take a good look at this egg carton and see if you can tell me what is wrong with it.

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Let’s zoom in for a closer look.

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Anyone selling eggs should know better but it boils down to being ALL about advertizing and appealing to the consumer’s misguided perceptions.

First of all it is illegal to sell feed with meat, meat by-products  or bone meal in any form to chickens. So by saying it is “vegetarian fed”  implies that some chickens are fed meat.  This is not true. Period.

Secondly,  it shows the stupidity of our world.  Chickens love bugs, flies, crickets, grasshoppers, worms and will even eat a mouse or small snake if one happens to across their path.  There is no way you can  keep a chicken from eating any of the above “meats” unless they are kept in cages with very sterile conditions and use  lots of pesticides.  The customer then cries “foul” (excuse the pun!).  They want cage-free, free-range hens  that are running around outdoors laying their eggs.  Ironically these same customers will  buy meal-worms treats to hand feed their “vegetarian-fed” hens!  The only part of the formula for free-range chickens being  “vegetarian-fed” is what the human puts in their feed trough.  Of course free-range is the most natural and healthiest way to raise chickens but just remember, free-range are technically not just ‘vegetarian-fed”!

It is also amazing to me the use of the word “fresh”.  Webster says “fresh” means “just recently as in recently laid egg”.   Now, really, who wants to eat something old?  But have you noticed you can hard-boil eggs you buy in the store but not freshly laid eggs?  That means means they are at least a week or more old by the time you buy them.   So if “fresh” (farm fresh, country fresh) applies to eggs purchased in a grocery store, what word applies to true “fresh” eggs?  There is nothing wrong with store-purchased eggs but they aren’t really “fresh”.  The eggs in a store come from a poultry farm producing high quality eggs meeting the highest of USDA standards but it takes time to get the eggs from the farm to the consumer. It is amazing it happens as quickly as it does.

Just for the record, I am in no way questioning the quality of store-purchased eggs.  After all, they originate from a hard-working farmer striving to provide a quality product for the consumer to eat. The grocery store is one avenue to get the product to the consumer.  I am “pet-peeved” about the advertizing!

Sometimes I see ads for “vegetarian-fed” beef.  Just for the record;  NO COW EATS MEAT!  Cows only eat grains and legumes or grasses.  Again, it is illegal to put any meat, meat by-products or bone meal in any form in cattle feed.  But the consumer sees the ad blip and translates it into a fact; “this beef is healthier and better for you because it was not fed meat”.

As a beef and egg producer it irritates me how the media is so subtle in how it misguides the consumer. I understand that most consumers are too far removed from the farm to know the “truth” but the same consumers are often a vocal voice and “experts” in their misguided information.

 

 

Wrong Question

I am still learning there are some questions you do not ask a hard-working, dawn to dusk farmer.  Did you do anything today?  Is that all you got done?

On Saturday afternoon I went to the hay field to check on my farmer where he was mowing hay and to take him a cool refreshing drink of tea.  He finished his circle around the field and stop by my car.  I innocently asked, “Is that all you got done?”  Sounded like a fair question to me!!  There were quite a few mowed  windrows but still a big uncut block in the center. I had expected him to be about done.  After all, he had been there most of the day.

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I got a little lecture about what he had to do before he started mowing, the size of the field, and also pointed out another piece he had cut over the crest of the hill that I had not noticed.  End of conversation.

Wrong!

That evening at supper he informed me that Kenneth, the owner of the farm he was mowing, said that it was a 40-acre field and it takes 69 rounds to get it all mowed.  Hum. Now I know that I not only asked a stupid question but my question was making headline news!  I guess someone needs to give the farmers something to talk about.  After all, going around the field 69 times can be rather boring but who cares. They are counting circles!

 

 

Bullying

There was a stand off in the pasture tonight.  The bulls butted their heads together and pushed each other around.  First one would get the advantage and push the other backwards for a while and then the roles reversed.  I declared their fight a “tie”!

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When they were tired they would stop and look away from each other and pant.

 

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Then they were back into attack mode.

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It is a fearsome thing to watch two bulls bully each other.

You don’t want to get too close and they decide they need to put you in your place!

The Farmer’s Feed Bucket

When a farmer carries a feed bucket he can lead his cattle wherever he wants!

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A Very Tiny Baby Calf

Over the weekend we had a very tiny baby calf born.  It smaller in size than our border collie was but with longer legs. It probably doesn’t weigh more than 30 lbs.  The calf is struggling to live and Gene is having to bottle feed it.  It does not want to suck the bottle and he is having to work to get milk into the calf.  The calf can’t seem to get up on its own but when Gene helps it up it can stand on its feet.  Gene took a calf hutch out to the field as protection for the calf. Fortunately it is not nasty weather.

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The calf looks bigger in this picture than what it actually is.

 

A calf like this is difficult to save but you have to try.  It did not get its mom’s colostrum so he is feeding a substitute colostrum milk replacer. It will only drink about a cup of milk. A normal calf will drink a quart.  This first week is very crucial to its survival.

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This afternoon the mama was out grazing in the pasture when we went to feed the calf. Gene had the calf fed before she spied us messing with her precious baby and across the field she came in a brisk run.  The mama is very concerned about her baby and keeps a close eye on it even when she is across the pasture grazing.

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Gene is moving a safe distance away as she comes to her baby.

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First she checks on her calf.

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Then she looks to see where Gene is at.

 

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After she settled down, Gene eased back over and tilted the hutch up so that she could nuzzle her baby.

Then she spied me standing off to the side taking pictures and that did not make her happy.  It wasn’t long till I decided I needed to made a dash back to the gate with her trotting hot on my heels!  I love gates!  See the hutch all the way in the back behind the barn. That is where I came from!!!!

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Yesterday Gene had to park the pickup in front of the hutch door to protect himself from her while he fed the calf.  These mamas are very protective of their babies and you don’t want to get caught in between them.

 

Working Cattle

 

This past week the guys rounded up a batch of mama cows with their calves to move to another field.  But first they all had to be wormed, tagged, vaccinated and the males castrated.

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This is a “calf table” with a squeeze chute to work the calves.

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 Pushing the calf into the head catch at the front of the chute.

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 The chute tilts over on its side making it safe and easy to work on the calves.

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This calf was not happy about being caught and was letting its displeasure be known.

 

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The tools of the trade!

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Just a quick snap and she is sporting her new identifying ear tag.

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Worming by pouring Ivomec on the back.

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Pen of young ones done and waiting on their mamas to be wormed and tagged.

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Mama Cow.

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The cows and calves were moved to another farm location for pasture rotation.

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Lush pasture for them to eat.

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Contented mamas and babies.

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Gene was sitting in the grass, quietly talking to his girls and one almost came up to him.  She thought about it long and hard.

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We have one Holstein looking calf in the group. We don’t know where those genetics came from!

When a Farmer Loses His Dog

This has not been a good week. It is always hard when you lose a family pet.  But when a farmer loses his dog, he has lost not only his buddy but also his constant companion and helper.

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Katie was killed this week in a farm accident.  She died doing what she loved most, herding the forklift.   The only time she chased the forklift was when Gene was on it.  She would run backwards at the front prongs, barking at it as if she wanted to herd it backwards. They had their little routine. He would beep the horn at her and holler at her to stop and she would keep at it.

Katie was a registered border collie, one of the most useful breed of dogs for on the farm. They are known for their intelligence and herding ability.  If a border collie thought a fence post would move they would herd it.  Gene has had border collies all his life and he loves them.  The dogs and I tolerate each other at a distance. In other words I am not a dog lover but I have learned it just comes with the territory.

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Katie was Gene’s dog. Her eyes were on him alone. She never endeared herself to the rest of the family. Sometimes it seemed her faults out weighed her charm but she was Katie and Gene seemed to understand her.  If she was told to sit, it lasted only until she got her coveted biscuit. She would listen to me only if Gene was not around.

She was the only dog who ever rode on the tractor with Gene.  She would ride for hours while he baled hay or fed the cows.

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She loved to help move cattle and would go until she literally dropped.  She could quickly get herself in a predicament with a protective mama cow as she didn’t have much fear. Nothing stopped her; briers, mud, snow, or heat. When the job was done she would lay on the patio and clean the burrs from her fur and give herself a lick bath. Whatever Gene did, wherever Gene went, she was there. If Gene came in the house she would sit on the patio and watch through the door to see what he was going to do next. If he went into the laundry room, she would beeline for the back door as she knew he was coming back out.  If he went into the living room, she would go curl up in one of her favorite napping spots.

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Often in the summer  Gene and I will ride the fields on the golf cart or snapper checking the hay or cattle.  Katie always went along, most of the time running ahead, just in front of the front wheels.  No amount of hollering, fussing or scolding would change her obnoxious  habit. Gene said he never hollered “no” at a dog more than he did her. Occasionally she would hop on for a ride but soon would be off to run and explore.

One of her very annoying habit was “tree biting”.  There were certain sounds (the weed trimmer or the treadmill in the house-she could hear it outside) she could not stand and it would drive her to “tree biting”.  She would go to a tree, jump at it over and over and bite at the bark as high as she could reach. Other noises such as a lawn mower or tag-a-long trailer coming in the driveway would send her scurrying for cover in her dog house.

We kept her penned up during the day because of all the traffic coming in our drive and we didn’t want her to start chasing cars. Her pen was situated so that she could see all directions on the farm; the cattle to the south, the house to the north, the driveway to the west and the store to the east.

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Each morning, every day of her life. Gene would give her a drink of water by the patio. Then she would plop down on her belly and he would have to literally drag her by the collar to the dog pen 50 feet away. She would resist the whole way, gagging at the collar choking her until they got to the door and then she would go obediently into her house where she would sit most of the day just watching the day’s activities. She was content to be there with her head out the door as long as Gene didn’t get on the tractor or chase a cow.

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She would not eat or drink in her pen. She was a picky eater and preferred a torn bag of monkey biscuits to dog food.  She was very protective of her food and if you touched her while she was eating she would respond with a snarl and vicious snap. The grandchildren all learned this the hard way.

She would often sit like a sentential watching over the farm. Occasionally she would corner a coon or groundhog. We always knew when she had one cornered with her intense, excited yelping as if to say, “Come, help me. I got one for you.”  Gene would grab his ball bat and quickly make a hit on the head of the victim.  Instantly, as if on cue, Katie would jump in for the kill. She was swift and the varmint did not escape.

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When Gene would leave for a few days, she moped.  She would gaze out the drive or lay in her house watching for his return.

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Katie was almost 13 years old. She was starting to show her age. Several years ago she tangled with the golf cart wheels and her back leg was never quite right after that accident.  In the past few months and weeks we had noticed it seemed to be bothering her more as she could no longer jump into the tractor by herself and had a more pronounced limp.

 Rest in peace

Katie

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June 29, 2001 – April 1, 2014

An Oops Kind of Day!

This afternoon Gene came into the store and said “come out here and take a look.” That that the sound that something was wrong.

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That is not the way the forklift is suppose to come off the dock.  By the time I got my camera he had already hooked the tractor to it to stabilize it and blocks under the wheels on this side.  It was very unstable and wobbly.  I thought it was going to turn over.  Gene had just unloaded a trailer load of hay and apparently didn’t get it out of gear when he got off.

I wanted to watch but of course at that very moment it got very busy in the store. The phone started ringing and customers apparently had lined up to pull in all together!

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All is well that ends well.  Nothing was bent or broken, no vehicles were in the way, and no one was hurt. It was hard to believe the prongs weren’t bent the way they dug into the driveway. But it also probably kept it from turning over. I guess it is good is was somewhat soft from all the rain.

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Only A Farm Wife

I woke up this morning so mad at my husband.  I dreamed he had decided to feed the cows on my glassed-in front porch.  He brought in feed boxes full of feed and I had six or eight of the cows crowded on the porch contentedly eating.  One of them had pushed open the front door and was in my bedroom!!!  If you know anything about cows you know that as food enters one end it is also exiting “stuff” out the other!  I was crying and trying to holler for him and he just ignored me. Then I awoke. With that dream I should be mad at him all day.  I do believe it is a dream only a farm wife could have as no city girl could come up with that one!

Sassy Mama

Today was one of those “cold as the blazes” March winter days.  It didn’t help that yesterday was a balmy, warm, short-sleeve kind of day.  This morning we woke up to sleet pouring down like rain followed by a heavy, wet snow that fell all day.  It was hard to believe it only amounted to 3 inches.

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This afternoon Gene came in and said, “”This is a South Dakota day”!  In other words, it is a cold, winter day on this Virginia farm and he has a mama cow needing help!  He had a first-time heifer trying to calf. She was in the pasture running around like a wild, sassy mama with the feet of the calf sticking out. She would not let him near and let it be clear she would take him on if he did.  Gene rounded up some help and headed out to the pasture to try and coax her into the corral area so he could deliver the calf.  Instead of singling her out by herself and running the risk of her bolting or charging,  he rounded up a bunch of the cows and got them all into the corral area.  After some sorting, they had her in a small enclosed area, and then quickly closed some gates, confining her in a chute where he could work with her.  She was not happy and did her best to not cooperate.  He carefully attached some string around the calf’s feet and after hooking it to a come-along  were able to racketed the calf out alive! This is sweet success for a farmer.

Gene put some fresh hay in the pen for the mama to eat and as clean, dry bedding for the calf. The mama immediately began licking the calf and nudging it to nurse.  I had to wait awhile to go take pictures as the guys said there needed to be quiet in the OB unit so she would settle down and bond with her calf.  Even then I had to stay my distance from the fence.  As I eased up to the fence she lowered head and told me in no uncertain terms to “stay away” and you don’t question her vocal advice!  I didn’t trust just a fence between us, so I quickly snapped a few pictures and left.

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It is amazing to me that a wet calf born on a frigid, cold, winter day in the middle of a snow storm can survive!  This evening both mom and babe are doing well and for now, all is peace and quiet on the ranch!

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