Little Primo becomes a steer

Since Primo was born last Wednesday, we've kept him and his mama Shadow in the corral. This was partially to give the baby a bit more protection against potential predators; but mostly it was to keep him handily close for when it came time to turn him into a steer.

We usually wait about five to seven days before castrating a calf, to allow the testicles to fully descend. In the old days when we used a vet, it was a nightmare of roping the little baby to the ground and slicing out the gonads. Nowadays we use a bander which causes no pain, no trauma, and is over literally within seconds.

On Tuesday, we pushed Primo into a pen and put a rope around his neck to keep him in one spot. I straddled him and lifted his hind legs off the ground. Don gently pulled down on the hair on the scrotum and fit the bander over the testicles, then released the band. Took -- maybe -- five seconds. Then we released Primo back with Shadow within two minutes of putting him in the pen. I tell ya, these banders are wonderful.

There was no longer any reason to keep Shadow penned up, so after keeping them in the corral for another hour (just to watch Primo and make sure he was okay), we opened the gate and let the baby venture into the big wide world.

As soon as the rest of the herd discovered this, of course, they came rushing over to make his acquaintance. Poor Shadow was suddenly in "protective" mode once again. Don't misunderstand, no one had any intention of hurting Primo, but Shadow is still a bit hormonal.

Shadow felt compelled to remind everyone who was Primo's mama.

She kept a watchful guard on him.

Within a few minutes the excitement was over. Primo wandered off to explore the woods (with Shadow dancing attendance) and everyone went back to their business. Primo is now a member of the herd.

Welcome Primo

Early this morning, around 5:30 am, I heard a commotion among the herd near the bull pen. It's the kind of commotion that denoted excitement, not fear. I wasn't entirely surprised when I walked out and saw a calf.

The baby belonged to Shadow -- who, if you remember, surprised us with her calf last year, little Ninja.

Shadow, still in the hormonally-deranged phase that happens right after giving birth, was distressed that so many others wanted to see the baby.

The baby was on his feet, but still wet -- and we weren't sure if he'd had his first critical drink of colostrum either. Shadow had not yet dropped the placenta, so I'm estimating the baby was born around 5 am.

Cows just loving having newborn calves in the herd.

But suddenly Shadow -- who, as I said, was still hormonally-deranged -- got into a rip-roaring fight with Sparky. They went back and forth, bashing heads together, and the calf got knocked off his feet. Fearing he would be trampled, I didn't waste any time -- I scooped up the calf and hauled him into the corral and closed the gates. The poor little guy stood in a daze, swaying on his feet (he wasn't too steady yet) while Shadow and Sparky continued to whale on each other on the edge of the woods.

Other animals milled around near the gate, watching the newcomer.

Meanwhile I broke up the fight between Shadow and Sparky, but Shadow took off into the woods. I knew what was coming: she would wander around for a bit, then return to where she'd last seen her calf, but not know how to find him (remember, cows aren't bred for brains).

The baby waited patiently. "Are you my mother?"

Don and Younger Daughter were still asleep during all this, of course. So when Shadow came back to where she'd given birth, looking for her baby, I tried but failed to get her into the corral with the calf (who was by then curled up in a corner, sleeping.)

Later, when Younger Daughter got up, she assumed Gate Duty on the corral while I went looking for Shadow. I found her down in the woods in a dense grove of bushes and trees, eating the placenta. It's a revolting thing to watch, but it's instinctive and even arguably healthy (blech).

The fact that she had passed the placenta was good news, so I left her alone until she finished consuming it.

Once Don got up, it was a fairly straightforward matter to get Shadow in with the calf. Took a bit of work, but we did it.

By this point it was abundantly clear the baby was a boy.

We named him Primo -- not only because he's the first calf of the season, but because he'll be "primo" eating in two years.

Shadow is a good mama, attentive and protective.

Newborn calves are unspeakably darling.

As is typical for very newborn babies, everywhere Primo went, Shadow, well, shadowed him. Dogged his every step.

This got pretty funny when Primo tried out his newborn muscles and did the happy little skippy-hops and short-burst runs of a healthy baby. Shadow trotted after him, udder swaying, mewling in concern.

This intense attention will decrease over the next week or so as Shadow's hormones adjust.

This is the first of as many as eight -- eight! -- calves we're expecting this year. Yikes.

First escape of the year

Ah spring, when a cow's fancy turns lightly to thoughts of grass -- which (as you know) is always greener on the other side of the fence.

Yesterday afternoon I noted little Curly was out. He apparently had managed to push the bottom portion of a section of cattle panel away and slipped through, and was happily cropping the grass by the edge of the driveway. (You can see the pushed-aside panel behind him.)

This wasn't an urgent situation, so after mentioning the First Escape of the Year to Don (who agreed it wasn't urgent), I straightened up and re-tied the cattle panel, then walked down to close the driveway gate.

This is when I noticed Shadow/Sparky (I can't tell the difference between these two ladies, they're identical), who had also pushed under the fence. She was further down the driveway, meaning she had been the ringleader for The Great Escape and Curly was merely following her example.

Needless to say, the rest of the herd was very interested in this development.

Later we rounded up both the recalcitrant critters and put them back in the woods, with the peanut gallery in attendance.

Shortly thereafter, I caught Dusty looking mournfully through a gate. "Hey, I want to escape too!"

Fear not, dear, in a few weeks the pasture will be green and lush, and you'll be in paradise. Hang in there.

Good Friday surprise

This morning when I went out to feed, we had yet another surprise in the bull pen:

Jet, in with the bull in the bull pen, had a calf! A sweet little bull. When I saw him, he was still a bit damp and had just staggered to his feet.

Okay, now this one surprised me, just as much as when little Ninja was born. We had no idea Jet was pregnant. In fact -- here's the thing -- we had Jet in the bull pen because she was destined for a date with the butcher very very soon. This little calf is literally her stay of execution.

But it puzzled me she had a calf at all. We deliberately didn't breed her because we planned to put her in the freezer. Jet is one of our original herd matrons, and over the years she's gotten quite cranky with the other cows (though thankfully not with us). She only became Samson's pen-made in mid-February, when Shadow so unexpectedly popped out Ninja. Having her in with the bull proved to be an excellent arrangement, since it meant she didn't boss around the other cows. But how did she get pregnant nine months ago...?

I've kept a "weather diary" for the past eleven years, so I went back to last June 19 and found my answer: It was the first and only time Samson had broken out of the bull pen.

He must have had the time of his life the night of the Great Escape. And, during that night, Jet clearly must have been the source of his motivation to get out of the pen.

It's worth noting, by the way, that Samson also bred Amy (whose calf Hector was just born) during that night of escape. What a wild night of fun for the bull!

So anyway, this would explain why I wasn't watching Jet for signs of impending birth -- I didn't think she was in heat the time Samson escaped. Oh well, no biggee, she just got a stay of execution.

Jet is a calm and experienced mother, and the little calf -- though chilly from early-morning temps of 25F -- was doing well. The only thing we did was remove the hot wire from around the bull pen, which was turned off anyway.

I checked mama and baby frequently during the day. At one point Jet had just dropped the afterbirth and was (gack) in the process of chewing it down.

A raven also discovered the afterbirth, and flew down to snag a piece which he then carried up to a tree to eat.

I'm not worried about Samson being aggressive to the baby. Bulls are usually pretty decent about such things, and if he got out of line, Jet would handle him (especially with those horns!).

He's a pretty little thing, very healthy.

I tell ya -- life is full of surprises.

This is our third little bull calf in a row. I need a name! What shall we call our little Good Friday calf?

Cleaning the barn

We're getting low on hay.

This isn't surprising. Last summer we got a very very bad yield of grass hay from the 25-acre parcel across from us (the absentee owner lets us mow and bale the acreage each year). Yields have been declining for a long time, and last summer hit a new low: only eight tons total, or about 1/3 ton per acre. Good productive fields should yield about two tons per acre.

A fair fraction of those eight tons was pretty lousy stuff, too -- chock full of such inedibles as cheat grass, hawk weed, and St. John's wort (which dries to stick-like brittleness and is like chewing wire for the cattle).

Unsurprisingly we had to supplement by buying some better-quality grass hay to get our animals through the winter. However we didn't get enough, so we just ordered in another ten tons.

To get ready for this incoming shipment, we wanted to clean out not just the barn, but the open area in front of it. You know the saying: nature abhors a vacuum. So do vacant places on a farm.

Don doesn't need much of an excuse to use the tractor. We chained up and moved four tractor tires a neighbor brought for use in the tire garden...

...moved the bucket attachment of our old tractor...

...and moved some old rotting hay bales that had absorbed so much water they must have weighed 100 lbs. each. (We moved them into the pasture to burn later on.)

Then we tackled the inside of the barn.

We had accumulated a surprising amount of hay bale twine. This is highly useful stuff (we've toyed with naming our farm Baling Twine Ranch or something) but it can be overdone. We have thousands of strings of twine and don't need it all. So, in the interest of efficiency, we chucked it into the back of the pickup for a future date with the dump.

It made rather a pretty and colorful tableau once we moved the truck into the sunshine.

In fact, I found it very artistic. Don termed it psychedelic spaghetti.

He used the fork/tine attachment on the bucket of the tractor to scoop up the old hay on the barn floor. Normally the old hay wouldn't be a big issue, but since Shadow and Ninja have been in the barn for a couple of weeks, the floor had a fair bit of manure on it. Can't set hay bales on top of manure.

The tines lifted much of the old stuff in a sort of mat...

...and revealed the gravel flooring of the barn. After a bit of work, most of the barn floor was clean enough...

...and the pile in the field was quite sizable.

Shadow and Ninja watched the progress.

Ninja was fascinated by the tractor, thus proving that a boy's interest in mechanical stuff crosses the species divide.

A few days later, a local farmer brought in the first load.

Beautiful leafy stuff, second-cutting.

Compare it to what we have in the barn at present.

The chickens wasted no time in exploring.

And Shadow wasted no time in munching.

The bales were huge -- on average about 1100 lbs each -- and lay like gigantic play blocks. The nooks and crannies proved irresistible to both chickens...

...and calves alike.

Don tried to load those massive bales into the barn, but they proved too heavy for our tractor. A neighbor (with a beefier tractor) is coming over the weekend to move them for us.

Now we're set for hay until summer!