It happens every year. I know it's coming. I try to harden myself and vow not to get emotional. But then we wean the calves and haul the steer calves to auction. The mama cows beller, the heifer calves bawl, and I sob. I barely care if the cattle market is great and we need the money and this is what they were born for. A pasture without those sweet little guys (well, not so little anymore--they weighed from 613 to 687 lbs.) is achingly empty.
Some of our steers, the smallest. The auctioneer said ours were the best in the sale (of over 1,000 head). I don't know if that's true, but surely they were the most loved.
Pansy wasn't sad about being weaned. She was furious!
Marigold is heavyhearted but not so much that she can't eat!
"The God who lifts up the downcast lifted our heads and our hearts..." --2 Corinthians 7:6 (MSG)
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