It is the first time I start a blog with no idea where to start, never mind where it was going. You won’t know this, but by the time you hit the second paragraph, I had already rewritten the 2nd para a few times, and have rearranged the two paragraphs. Yes, it is possible to rearrange two.
It’s been a tough, but good, corporate week. However, it was now weekend, and I wanted nothing more than “work the cattle”.
So, I guess this blog will be for your lazy Sunday afternoon entertainment, if you had ever wondered about cattle farming.
Our cattle farming started 2,5 years ago, a few months after we bought the farm. We bought tollies, which are neutered young bulls, and our plan was to host them until they gained some T-bone structure.
It is important that I tell you it was a few months after we bought the farm, because then you will appreciate when we say that a couple of months later, upon shipping the tollies out again, we discovered we had 2 young cows amongst the tollies. Never mind, it was in my mind to become more self-sustainable, and farm with cow and calves. So, we dispatched Daisy and Mable to our neighbours to sow their wild seeds.
Daisy came back “with young” but Mable was perhaps a little prudish.
Earlier last year, Daisy gave birth to Valentino. Can you guess his birth date? 
.
We could not understand why Valentino was not picking up weight, until we discovered Mable was supping on Daisy – hence her nickname “Milk Thief”.
It was around this time that we decided even if both cows had come back pregnant, and had they been two heifers, it would take, say 99 years for us to build up a herd.
So, we procured another 38 cows. And one handsome young gun. Unfortunately, a bit too young to take a stance with the ladies.
We asked around, and would you believe the nice neighbourliness we have here; a friendly fellow farmer proffered his bull to chaperone the ladies.
It was quite cute when we brought the bull over. The minute he stepped through the gate, young Mable, who had been lazing in the lush green ground cover, stood up with a “well hello there” stance, and sauntered sexily over to bull number 18. He was her first, and she produced our first.
It is now one year later, and the cows are “producing” left right and centre as the colloquial saying goes.
It is still a small herd, and we had very good rains last year, so our (or rather, the cattle’s fodder) is more than we need, so we had the opportunity to diversify our income streams, and we are renting out two camps to another herd.
It was that herd we had to work this weekend. It was relatively easy, but essential work. Here comes the technical part of the blog.
You need to treat the heifers before they reach 8 months, with Brucella which protects them against abortion later in life. And once a year, treat all cattle, in fact all animals, with a general all round vaccination, which in this case was MultivaxP.
That syringe is the reason I always look the other way when I donate blood. But, if you know where, (in the hollow below the shoulder blade) and you can move fast before the cattle pin your arm in the manga, it is done very quickly.
We don’t have a prodder, and in a way I prefer that, because I think a carrot works better than a stick. Having said that, the cattle don’t necessarily understand what treats wait for them on the other side of the “head scissors” so it takes some coaxing with a rubber pipe across the rump to get them moving. Trust me, the pipe makes more noise than it makes pain, and the cattle do understand the instruction then.
Let me clarify, a head scissor is not a euphemism for removing the brain from the body, it is actually a clamp type structure, which keeps the animal more or less still while you administer the eye drops, or other necessary treatment.
One last task was to document the unique tag numbers of each animal, for control purposes. Not only for ourself, but also for the meatboard who issue all tag numbers. Have you tried reading a moving 8 digit target? Not such a simple job after all.
The treat on the other side, in this case, was a refreshing shower, with “eue de anti tick” aroma. Administered with the fire fighter. I can see one wild rave party theme happening here.
And that was that. A most relaxing weekend:
When you do what you love, it’s not work.
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