We rotated cows to a fresh pasture today. Moving cows used
to stress me out but I have learned to relax over the years. OK, my family
would probably tell you that I still get pretty cranked up about moving them
and the worst case scenarios go through my head each time I open the gate and
let them out into the road. However, the cows at my place have generally been
here for several seasons and they have a better idea of what is going on than I
do. In other words, my cattle drives usually work in spite of all my worrying
and planning.
Today was no exception. Isaac was on his horse, Dad was
riding his atv and I was piloting the good old, loud feed truck with alfalfa on
the back. Truth be told, the move could probably be made with just the old,
loud feed truck, I am not even certain we need the alfalfa for anything more
than to make the old cows bunch up at the gate and wait for the calves. Isaac
does a good job of convincing the calves that it is a good idea to keep pace with
the cows.
We hold the cows back at the gate because once they hit the
road there is no turning back and the calves are often not smart enough to
figure out that the gate is open if they don’t see their mama go through it.
Today, the cows were relatively close to the gate and soon followed me. I
waited patiently while Isaac and his horse pushed the calves down and Dad ran
up to a high spot to make sure we didn’t have any stragglers.
Once I saw Isaac I let go of my grip on the bales
(experience tells me the cows will drag them off and then you have grid-lock)
and started moving. Sure enough once the old cows hit the road they started the
mile jog toward fresh pasture. Like a Nascar driver starting at the back of the
field I weaved my way up through the herd but only managed to make it half way
before the finish line was in sight.
The cows were picking up momentum, I started to worry that
they were going to go right on past the gate and began to formulate plan B in
my head. However, as they came up even with the gate each cow made a hard right
and went into the gate. I made it to the gate ahead of most of the calves and
turned them into the pasture. That is when I noticed my two compadres bringing
up the rear were not in sight.
Just as I started to worry they popped up over the hill each
of them on either side of Lucky, the cow. Lucky was taking her own sweet time,
eying the green grass on either side of the road. Lucky is the former 2007 Pottawatomie
County Bucket Calf Champion and famous in her own beany little brain.
Her life started out tragically. We found her standing over
her dead mother one February morning and she came to live with us. Tatum named
her Lucky and she was the kid’s first cow. Lucky was the daughter of a first
calf heifer who died giving birth to her so we were not sure if she would be a
good mother. There must be a fair amount of instinct involved with mothering
because she is an excellent mother and raises a nice calf each year.
Lucky isn’t much to look at, she is pretty narrow and way
too thin. Each year we wonder if she is bred and luckily enough (for her) she
is and often is one of the first to calve. She walks with a noticeable limp.
Two or three different times she has come up lame on the same back foot. The
first time she was caught in wire and cut the foot up pretty bad. It was right
before calving and we thought for sure she would lose the calf. Nope, in true
Lucky fashion she calved, raised a respectable calf and bred back on time all
while looking like death warmed over. Each year we debate on culling old Lucky
and each year she escapes that long trailer ride by, well, being lucky.
I have come to expect her to be the last one out into the
road when we drive the cows. We overlook her bony appearance and we tolerate
her slow limping gate. Why? Is it because she is a good old cow who keeps
producing each year. Maybe, but I truly suspect it is because she has a name
and a story and everyone knows that cows like that never die. They just limp on
to greener pastures.
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