Lady Sweetums

This afternoon was the 72 hour mark for Sweetums' hormone shot. She had started mooing a little, so we called Tony. At about 530 pm, Sweetums became a woman. Hopefully, she will no longer be a heifer, but will now be a true cow. Ok, ok. Let me get to the nitty gritty. I know you want to hear it!

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT LOOK AT THESE PICTURES IF YOU ARE EATING

This story is also not for the faint of heart. I used to belong to that group, but I am now in the group of people who don't even flinch at this kind of thing (yea right). I am now a farm girl who isn't grossed out by anything (except for everything nasty). So I apologize if I am a bit graphic, because it doesn't phase me one little bit ( actually,I had my left hand clasped so tight across my mouth during the whole thing just to keep from screaming in disgust).

Ok, so Tony has the can of liquid nitrogen in the back of the truck, the long glove, and a long metal straw/syringe apparatus. Sounds simple enough. Sweetums is happily eating her peanuts in the chute...goats are occupied...kids are asking "Is she getting another shot?" I say, Sorta. They are satisfied with that answer for now. Tony opens the gate on the chute, puts the straw/syringe that is holding the semen IN HIS MOUTH as if it is a rose ( I guess Tony understands the ladies)and begins the process of putting his arm up her rear end. I took pictures with my right hand, and had my left hand over my mouth as stated earlier. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The kids have climbed the fence half way, like good farm kids do, to get a better look at the goings on. Daughter yells out, "Why is he putting the glove in her bottom?!" Son, hearing her say bottom, yells out "BOTTOM? YUCK!" And he laughs. I'm still in my same position with the hand over my mouth. Can't talk, can't look and yet can't not look. The process of getting the arm in took a few minutes I'd say, at the most. Then, the semen straw goes in under the arm, and squirt! - arm out, glove off, wham-bam-thank-you-mam... Just another day in the life of Tony.

I look at daughter. She has a really freaked out look on her face. "That was WEIRD," she said. I laughed. Yes, darling, that was weird.

Farmer-hubby says, she didn't seem to mind that one bit! Tony laughs, "No, no she didn't. She was definitely in heat."

At that point I was able to attend better to the children's questions... here is my brilliant explanation: there is a little tiny baby calf in that shot that you can't see with your eyes it is so small. He puts it in her belly and it will grow into a big baby calf. It will take a long time. And that is all I said. They went on about their business. That is what I LOVE about farm kids. They just accept life as it is.

So Tony stands around talking to us for awhile, while I drill him with questions about fresh milk, his life story, you know small talk. And Sweetums stood at the fence staring at him. She didn't take her eyes off him. Farmer hubby jokes with Tony and says, "Finally she doesn't have a crush on me anymore-its you now!" She just stood there, listening to our conversation. I think she was thinking to herself..."I wonder if he'll call me tomorrow."

I gotta say, this was a pretty painless experience (for me!) over all. Once we got Tony's name, this process has been a breeze. I was so anxious that we wouldn't ever be able to get her pregnant. I am trusting in the good ol' birds and the bees, and saying a little prayer that we have a little (heifer) embryo forming as I write! I will update her status as it becomes available.

Tony put the glove in the back of his truck and drove off saying, "Holler at me if she comes in heat in about 21 days! If not, I'll preg check her at about 60!"

10-4 good buddy.

The Shot has been given-now we wait

We met Tony today, and his buddy Allen Boyd. Now, the ironic thing is that our US Congressman representing our district is named Allen Boyd. This was not the congressman Allen Boyd who came to give a hormone shot. But, I digress. Farmer-husband had already put Sweetums in her new chute/milking stall. She had a treat of peanuts and corn in her food bowl to keep her occupied during the procedure. It was really a quick and dirty process. He lifted her tail up (as you can see in the picture) and then he gave her the shot. She did move around some, but not anything like what I had pictured in my worst case scenerio, where I had her coming up over the sides of the stall and several large men having to man-handle her to get the shot done.

Tony said we should see her in heat within 48-72 hours. Then, we give him a call and the real deed is done. So, hopefully on Friday afternoon I will be posting another story!

The real benefit to all this is that Tony and Allen Boyd were able to give me some good solid information on the sale of raw milk. It has been hard to get this info, so I was excited to get it. Alls I got to do is get a pet food license, label the milk for pet consumption only, and cha-ching! Maybe we can recoup some of the cha-ching that has already been paid.

My New Gig

First and foremost, I have to let you know that Sweetums' first date was postponed to this coming Tuesday... the details surrounding this involved a few "missed signs" that forced us to cancel this week's happenings. As promised earlier, the story and pictures will follow!

Now, for my big reveal! I have landed the opportunity to write a weekly article for our local newspaper. I am very excited about this because it is something I have thought about for a long time. The nature of the article will be very similar to this blog. Mainly light-hearted stories about my farm life, with some educational and pertinent agriculture issues thrown in there. It will run every Friday, with the heading of "The Farmer Takes a Wife" and my picture! Pretty cool, huh?

I am still deciding what my debut article will be about...should I shock people? Make people laugh? Educate them? Inform them? I'm still deciding. Hopefully I will win them!

Thank you to my faithful readers for all your comments and feedback- keep reading!

Sweetums is going all the way

2 years ago, I had the crazy idea to get a family milk cow. I read up on the subject (a little). I thought about the details of it all (well, not really). I talked to people who were "experts" (OK, 1 person). And then I put my name on the waiting list at a Jersey dairy for newborn heifers they weren't going to keep (mainly because they were born later than the majority of their calves and didn't fit in with the schedule of the dairy). Then I waited. I figured nothing would come of it. Then the phone call came. "Tracie, we have 2 calves that are 1 week old. Are you interested in them? If so, you need to make your decision by tomorrow because there are other people that have already said they would buy them if you choose not to."

Ummmmm......honey? Can I get a calf?
When?

Ummmmm......tomorrow?
I guess.

That is my sweet husband for you. And he made it all happen. The initial pen for her, the equiptment, the de-worming... but the feeding and the loving was all me. I bottle fed her for 3 months. I brushed her, cuddled her, talked to her. She went from the size of a labrodor to about the size of a great dane and now she is about 500 pounds.

Last year, we realized how lonely herd animals get without a herd. Sweetums needed friends. We got 3 baby goats (from the sister dairy that Sweetums was born at)and almost immediately, she became their mother. All for the milk that is. (No, cows are not born giving milk. They get it the same way humans do.) We bottle fed the goats as well. Now our herd of 4 spends their days happily walking the pasture, chewing cud, and generally conducting themselves in a manner that I refer to as "foolishness and mayhem."

Sweetums still knows me as her mother. I can brush her and pet her and talk to her and she listens. I love to watch her mother the goats, because she is so much like a human mother. She worries about them, makes sure they are staying with her, but she also takes a break from them when she needs it. And she'll lower her head on them and use her horns if she has to.

Well the time has come now for Sweetums to start earning her keep. It is time for her to get pregnant, deliver a healthy calf, and give us the white gold we've been waiting so long for. I have called around as best as I could trying to find a way to get her pregnant. It hasn't been easy. Vets, ranchers, dairies, internet searches... nothin. Sweet husband suggested last night, "Why don't we put it on craigslist?" He posted a wanted ad for an AI technician for a Jersey calf. And within 1 hour, we received an email with a name and number of AI tech in our area. And this afternoon we got a phone call from Tony. And Tony is coming on Tuesday.

Let me go ahead and answer some questions I know you all have:
1. She is going to be artificially inseminated with Jersey semen, so her calf will be small and pure bred.
2. She will carry her calf for 9 months 10 days.
3. She will have milk after the calf is born.

I am very nervous. I am very excited. I am already laughing at the "foolishness and mayhem" that will ensue during the ordeal. Don't worry, pictures and the full disclosure of the story will follow!

Saturday morning in the countryside

"Catch for us the foxes,
the little foxes
that ruin the vineyards,
our vineyards that are in bloom." Song of Soloman 2:15

In an effort to live up to the preconceived notion that all farmers wives fix a gigantic and hearty breakfast every morning as they send out their strapping farmer to the field for a grueling day of driving mules, I had planned to fix store-bought bacon (the farmer won't stand for me having hogs), fresh eggs, and biscuits from my freshly ground flour. I mean, it is Saturday after all. Even the folks in Suburbia realize that Saturday morning calls for a big breakfast.

It was 715, I was getting things going in the kitchen, coffee was brewing...-warning: Tracie has not yet had her coffee. Proceed with caution- kids are watching cartoons on TV, farmer is still sleeping. I hear a big, heavy THUD at the back door. The same back door that the goats were trying to break into a few weeks back. Now, we quite frequently have birds that will fly into our back door or any of our large windows that line the back of our house. So the thud sound is not really something new, and when I heard it I knew that a bird had flown into the window. Upon turning my head slowly to the left, I see that the bird was our precious Crystal. Daughter's favorite chicken, my favorite chicken, and 1 of 2 chickens left. She is a type of feather-footed Bantam, white with a bright red comb. She is small, lays small eggs, and is a survivor. Some how, she and the other smallest chicken of the original 8 ("The Mother" is her name)are our only survivors left. Talk about survival of the fittest. These ladies fly. I mean really fly. We have seen them fly the entire length of the pasture, catching pretty good air. They make us smile, and yet I know they have witnessed the tragic deaths of their flock members and have no doubt gone to great lengths to escape death themselves. Which is exactly what Crystal was doing at the time of the THUD.

I am at the back door now, Crystal is flapping like crazy on the ground and there is a beautiful reddish-brown fluffy-tailed fox trying to kill her. There is flapping, chasing, cornering, and there is also screaming. And pounding. I am screaming at the top of my lungs "NO NO NO NO!" and I am pounding the window of the door with both hands as hard as I can. I later remembered that this is what City Mouse sister did the night a man was trying to break into her house and he was on the outside of the door and she was on the inside. I guess it is just what one does when trouble is too close for comfort. And all I could think, was that I was not going to be able to prevent this death from occuring. I knew that the end was near, all the fox had to do was grab her by the neck and run off. I just knew that was going to happen any second and that the kids would be watching. But I kept pounding and screaming anyway.

My screaming and pounding worked- 2 fold. The fox darted off a bit, and farmer came RUNNING from the bedroom (having no idea what is the matter). The whole family is now at the back door, door is opened, farmer is yelling, fox is heading for the hills, Crystal flies in the house. I catch Crystal, holding onto her for dear life (literally) and she is snuggled into me, trembling. She and I had a bonding moment. For those of you who know chickens, you know that not only do they not enjoy being held or cuddled, they aren't really capable of showing you that "unconditional love" that say, dogs do. So, that was a really special moment for me and Crystal. Farmer is outside now, fox has jumped through the small square holes in the fence (foxes are a lot smaller up close than you city slickers might think)and is heading toward the back of the pasture near the pond. I blurt out, "Where is Big Mama and the goats?" 3 year old son says with a trembling voice, "Maybe the fox got 'em". This made daughter and I chuckle. When the fox got to the clear other side of the pasture and pond, she turned and looked back at us, I suppose she was willing to give it one more chance if we had gone away.

I put Crystal down outside and get my shoes on. I wanted to go see if the Mother can be found. I also wanted to put Crystal in the coup for the day, and get the Mother in there as well, if she was still alive. At first Crystal just hid in the corner of of back door, not moving. Poor Crystal!She then got the courage to run into the woods and found a small little tent like hole that another animal had built for protection. She hunkered down and was safe. She knew now was not the time to peck the ground, now was the time for hunkering down. Farmer was scouring the woods for the fox, but we both knew she was long gone. We got Crystal out from hiding, locked her in the coup. The Mother came running from the woods, along with the other beasts. I was relieved. We caught her too and locked her up. I reminded Sweeetums that she not only had the 3 billy goats to keep up with, but the lady birds as well. She gave a low and understanding, "Mrrr." (Because cows actually say "mrrr" not "mooo")

Farmer thinks it was a mamma, needing to feed her babies, and we mothers know how important it is to feed our babies. So I don't fault her at all for merely doing what she knew she had to. It is one thing to know and accept the circle of life, yet another to watch it on the Discovery Channel, but when it is happening at your back door, there is nothing quite like it. I explained to the children that the fox is not "bad". She is doing what God created her to do. They understood, but they were so relieved that Crystal lived to see another day. I know it is her flying ability that saved her. I think she flew quite a long ways, with the fox chasing her on the ground, and then our back door stopped her.

I went back in, to return to breakfast and get my coffee. I pulled out the tray of fresh eggs from the fridge knowing they weren't our last. And then I pitied all the suburbia suckers at Starbucks this morning-they just don't know what they are missing out in the countryside.

Food Check Out Week

Last week, all across the country, county Farm Bureau organizations made a concentrated effort to educate the public on our safe, affordable, and abundant food supply that we enjoy in the United States. The reason for doing it in Feburary, specifically the 3rd week each year, is quite interesting. Here in the US, the average person spends less than 10% of our income on our food. By this time of the month, we have earned enough money from January 1st until the third week in February, to pay for our entire year's worth of food. It may seem like each time you visit the grocery store, something costs more than the previous week. But we still enjoy the most affordable food supply in the world.

Have you thanked your farmer today?

A Well Beaten Path

To say I have learned a lot from having animals as part of my family would be a complete understatement. I really don't know how to convey to you what they have taught me, explained to me, evoked in me, and showed me. As of late, the farmer and I have been most entertained by the cliches, sayings, phrases, etc that are so common to us all and yet, really not fully understood until you see where so many of them originated- in farm animals. I'm not sure if 'well beaten path' came from the farm, but I wanted to show it to you all, in its most primitive form. We have a 5 acre pasture for the jersey heifer, the 3 goats and the 2 remaining chickens. Everyone but the chickens have literally worn a path that goes along the fence line through the pasture. This is the path they take every morning as they journey down to the woods, and every afternoon as they make their way home for dinner. Sure, they wander out into the grassy area to graze and rest, but when they are walking, by golly they are on the path. Talk about 'creatures of habit'! Our Native American Brown Dog, Mallory, also has a pathway that she takes out the back door. You can't see it as well because she weighs a mere 42 lbs compared to the animals in the pasture who probably totaled together are about 750 lbs. Take a look at the well beaten path :)






This is Mallory the dog's path




I just had to put the stinker in there, she hardly would let me take these pictures!