Hey! It’s Jessie again with a farm story. : )
So, I know over the years I’ve told a lot of angry mama cow stories, and those stories have kind of slowed down this year, mostly because of the ranch horses we have.
With our more aggressive cows, Pie takes her horse down, and they herd the cow away from her calf while Watson or Julia and I catch the calf and tag it.
I can’t tell you how much easier and better that has made tagging calves.
Unfortunately, it also had the unintended effect of drying up my best story stream.
But…mostly good news, lol, we had not one, but two tagging sessions that didn’t go as planned this week.
I already told you about our embryo calves. Because we did that, we have a bunch of cows all having their calves within a couple weeks’ time. Which is a lot of fun, but it also makes for some days where we have three or four cows calving in one day. Lots of tagging and lots of watching and making sure everything is going well.
Some of the cows Watson and I can do by ourselves, so he and I have been driving our Gator (which is like an ATV with an enclosed cab and bench seat) out to check on the calves and tag the ones we can.
After we had some trouble catching a calf on Tuesday because Watson couldn’t get the door open fast enough to grab it, I said to him that we should take the doors off. Watson said it was too cold yet.
I’d rather be a little chilly and have the freedom to jump out when I need to, but I didn’t argue with him.
Wednesday, he and I were down checking the herd, and had already tagged two calves when we came upon #22 down on the bottom with a newborn heifer. The baby was still wet, although she was standing. The perfect time to grab them, since they haven’t gotten good at running yet.
We stopped the Gator, I got out with my little twelve inch long stick. Watson makes fun of me with it, but I like that it’s not too long for me to control, since I have a tendency to be a little clumsy. Still, as I was getting out, he said, “Don’t you want the cattle prod that’s in the back?”
I said, no thanks, and moved around the Gator, waving my stick and yelling, which is usually enough to get the mama cow to move out of the way so Watson can grab the baby.
#22 lowered her head and shook it. She did not back up.
So, I took a few more steps until I was about five feet from her, and looked as scary as I could (which is VERY scary, according to my children). She pawed the ground and took a step toward me. Hmm.
Well, I like to think I’m a little bit smart, but I do know I can be stubborn, too, so I waved my arms, shouted and took a step forward.
#22 took two steps forward.
Watson got out of the Gator, grabbed the cattle prod and popped her on the nose with it. #22 shook her head, stopped looking at me, and took two steps toward Watson, her calf tucked up close to her side.
At that point I decided that #22 wasn’t going to cooperate, and we were going to need Pie and Shamrock, her horse. It took Watson a few more moments of waving his cattle prod and backing up while #22 acted like she wanted to eat him (while I tried to decide whether I should call 911 before I got his body in the Gator or after).
Also, just so you can picture this accurately, I know some wives will yell at their husbands and tell them what to do. I don’t do that. First of all, because Watson never listens anyway, and secondly, because sometimes he does crazy things that work.
Still, Watson backed up and said, “I think we might need Pie.”
I concurred, so we both got back in the Gator and he texted an SOS to our daughter. We waited for her to saddle up and come down, and I admit, I anticipated that #22 would be the same as every other cow, and allow the horse to cut her away from her baby and herd her away.
When Pie showed up, I said, “Go ahead and take this one to the other side of the field.”
Some of the mama cows aren’t that bad, and Pie and Sham will just hold them close to where we work, but I knew #22 meant business, and really didn’t want her anywhere near where we were working. Pie knew what I meant, and she took Sham in with a shout.
#22 lowered her head and charged the horse.
Sham came from a ranch in Montana. He knows his job and he does it well. All Pie has to do is not fall off. Pie is pretty good at that. They dodged out of the way, while Watson tried to get between #22 and her calf with the Gator so he could open the driver’s door, jump out and tag the calf.
#22 didn’t follow the horse, though, but came back to her calf. There just wasn’t enough time.
Now, I don’t know how good you are at picturing this in your head, but if Watson gets the Gator between #22 and her calf, with the calf on his side, you know who’s on my side, right?
I have the window down so I can see where the calf is, so we don’t run over her (it’s an embryo calf, not that we ever want to run over any calf, but embryo calves are worth a lot more money, and, while I am not driving, it will be MY fault if Watson runs over her, just saying).
After you’ve been married for a certain number of years, you have a tendency to know your spouse’s faults, right? And I don’t believe in focusing on anyone’s faults, nor in holding their weaknesses against them. After all, I have weaknesses, too, and I appreciate getting grace when they show up.
But, at the same time, I do think it’s prudent to be aware of your spouse’s faults and act accordingly.
So, my husband is very good at getting jobs done. Therefore I know for a fact that if #22 ends up on my side of the Gator with the calf on the other side, Watson will not have any issues at all leaving her there until he gets done what he needs to do. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.
I have zero interest in getting a close up to #22, so I say to Watson, very calmly, “Trade me places.”
Just then, Ethyl, our German Shepherd, barks at #22 from the back of the Gator, and #22 charges her, jumping up and getting both feet over the side edge of the Gator and causing Ethyl to bail out. (lol) (I’m so tempted to point out to Watson that his dog has bailed while the wife hasn’t, but I don’t. I know. My self-control is spectacular.)
Watson and I are both a little surprised. There haven’t been too many (any?) times where a cow actually had herself up on the back of the Gator. He drives forward, #22’s legs fall off, and I say again, “Trade me places.”
It takes Watson a little bit to drive far enough away from #22 for him to feel safe getting out and walking around the Gator. In the meantime, Pie and Sham are still trying to get #22 away from her calf, but #22 will charge for about fifteen yards before she runs back to her baby.
I say to Watson, “Maybe we should let this one go and just get her when we do herd check.”
Watson says, “I’m not letting this cow win. We’re tagging this calf.”
That’s fine, I guess. I feel a LOT better now that I’m in the driver’s seat (and as long as I can remember whether I’ve got it in forward or backward gear, we should be good).
Sham and Pie act as decoys, I try to split #22 and her calf with the Gator, Ethyl is on the back again, so I’m not worried about running her over and, after we go in a few circles, somehow we end up with #22 on Watson’s side. The calf ran in front of me, so I couldn’t move and #22 only needed two seconds to turn and jump into Watson’s open window.
(I am not laughing – much – as I type this.)
This is EXACTLY what I thought was going to happen to me. The calf is on my side, and I can jump out and tag her, but Watson is yelling, “Gas on it! Gas on it! GAS ON IT!”
I am so tempted to say, “Just hold her there until I get this calf tagged” only because I KNOW that’s what he’d say if I was the one with the cow almost in my lap. But Watson is coming across the seat and I’m pretty sure he’s going to be using my shoulder as a launch pad to get himself out of the Gator and then I’ll be stuck in it with #22, so I (with a smile on my face) gas on the Gator, #22’s front legs slide back out and we zip away, laughing.
Yeah, I know, we’re a little nuts and definitely odd about what we consider a good time, but we’re both enjoying ourselves. Sham is having a great time, too, although I think Pie might be wishing she was doing something a little safer, like Roman riding while jumping through rings of fire.
Anyway, we drive back around, because Watson is still determined to tag this calf. Not too long after, #22 finally chases Pie and Sham far enough away that Watson is able to jump out, grab the calf and run back to the Gator with it. He yells “GAS ON IT” before he has the door shut, and I do, only I’m heading straight for #22 (because that’s the way the Gator was pointed, I guess.) Hey, I never claimed to make good decisions in high pressure situations. My superpower is remaining calm.
Anyway, #22 doesn’t realize we have her calf in with us, thankfully, so she really doesn’t pay much attention to us.
Watson holds the calf. I stop, grab the tagger and snap her earring into place. We don’t even drive back to right beside #22, like we usually would, but Watson pushes his door open wider and deposits the calf right there. Pie and Sham guide #22 over until she sees her baby.
We drive away, watching while they are reunited and laughing at what a crazy time that was.
As we’re heading up to the gate, Watson says, “Guess you’re glad I didn’t listen to you and take the doors off.”
I’m tempted to tell him it wouldn’t have bothered me a bit, but I just say, “I think no doors would have made our morning even more exciting.”
He can’t disagree with that, lol.
Have a beautiful week!
Hugs and love,
Jessie 