Cisco

There’s nothing like a stillborn calf (see yesterday’s post) to engender great relief and gratitude for the safe delivery of Clarabelle’s baby bull last night. The handsome, strong, curly-coated calf, named Cisco, is full of vim and vigor and has an extremely hearty appetite!

Of all the black baldy heifers we bought last year, Clarabelle was the only one who seemed to take after the Angus side of her family. The other twelve had the wonderfully gentle Hereford disposition, but Clarabelle seemed to be inherently suspicious, spooky, and easily riled. She’s gradually come to trust us, but I always wondered if she’d revert to her Angus-ness when she became a mama. (Black Angus mamas are prone to over-protectivity following parturition, which can make for some hair-raising moments for their caregivers!)

Thankfully, my concerns were unfounded. Clarabelle is a devoted mama but still a model citizen, so I didn’t need to update my will before treating Cisco’s umbilical cord or taking this photo!.

“Be strong, vigorous, and very courageous. Be not afraid, neither be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” –JOSHUA 1:9 (AMP)

Ouch

Early yesterday evening, our sweet Petunia delivered a stillborn calf nearly three weeks early. The sight of that beautiful, lifeless heifer was tough, but her mama’s distress was heartrending. The pain of it caused my knees to buckle, and I just sank to the ground and sobbed.

When we brought Petunia up from the pasture and put her with her old friends, Princess and Daisy Mae, she began to calm down. I felt a little better when Hubby announced that Petunia would not be rebred and is now officially retired. Hubby, like the vast majority of ranchers, has never “retired” a cow that was no longer reproductively sound. He’s sold them at auction. Feeding an unproductive cow indefinitely is the worst kind of business decision, but Petunia isn’t just a cow. She’s more like family.

“For the Lord has comforted His people and will have compassion upon His afflicted.” –ISAIAH 49:13b (AMP)

The Sale

If you’re quiet, you can hear the sounds of spring in cow country: birds singing, cows calling calves to mealtime, and auctioneers selling bulls and replacement heifers.

In general, the cattle market is quite vulnerable to volatile factors such as weather here and abroad, grain markets here and abroad, prices of fuel and fertilizer, foreign demand for beef, numbers of cattle in feedlots, and public perception of beef nutrition and safety (itself subject to a torrent of information which is often distorted or false).

That’s the big picture. The worth of an individual animal is also dependent on the seller’s reputation for quality and integrity, the animal’s phenotype (quality as determined by appearance and ultrasound), genotype (genetic potential), actual performance, as well as a buyer’s needs, preferences, and depth of pocketbook.

If I were a cow, I’d be chased into a sale ring and weighed on a scale for all to see. And after folks took a look at my scars, limp, bad back, and multiple brands, there would be more snickers and jokes than bids. Probably the only one bidding would be the slaughter buyer, the man that buys what no one else wants—for cheap. (Where else do you think those burgers on the dollar menu come from?)

But, just before the auctioneer would give up and wave me out, a bearded guy sitting on the back row bleachers would tip his white Stetson. Everyone would turn and gawk at him, as the auctioneer resumed the bidding.

“I’ve got 65, who’ll give me seventy?”

The guy in the white hat would stand up and pull his checkbook out of his Carhart pocket. With a commanding voice and a twinkle in his eye, he’d say, Is seventy centillion enough? Then he’d write the check with a pen that positively glittered and ink as crimson as blood.

For once in his life, the auctioneer would be nearly speechless. “Are you crazy?" he’d finally sputter. “That cow ain’t--”

The buyer’s eyes would darken. He’d clear his throat. “Don’t talk about my cow like that! I just gave everything I had for her.”

If anyone could manage to tear their gaze away from the eyes of the man in the white hat, they’d see that the check was already in the hands of the clerk. Her face would be pale and her hands shaking as she stared at the signature on the check: Jesus Christ.

“For you know that God paid a ransom to save you…. And the ransom he paid was not mere gold or silver. It was the precious blood of Christ, the sinless, spotless Lamb of God.” –1 PETER 1:18-19 (NLT)

Happily Healed

We took the casts off of Shadow’s forelegs today. As expected, Princess was the helicopter-mama, hovering over us as I held her getting-bigger-by-the-day calf while Hubby cut off the wrappings. Fortunately, Shadow is used to us messing with him, and he only struggled once, at which time I realized that he’s grown so strong that he can almost lift me off the ground.

When we let him up, he just stood there for a few moments, getting used to his cast-free, now-straight limbs. Then—very uncharacteristically for such a big, mature, slow-moving cow--Princess playfully took off around the corral, bucking! It seemed for all the world like she knew that everything was finally okay with her little guy, and she wanted to celebrate. For his part, Shadow commemorated the occasion with some lunch!

“The lame will leap like a deer, and those who cannot speak will sing for joy!”             –ISAIAH 35:6a (NLT)

Company

Grace, a beautiful black Lab from town, has come to the country for a few days as she does once or twice a year when her family has to be out of town. She barks more than we’re used to, she’s often tracking in mud after her swims in the canal, and her tail wags can leave bruises on our shins—but we adore her sweetness and irrepressible enthusiasm for accompanying us. Every chore, every trip, no matter how short, is joyfully anticipated and fully enjoyed. Grace fully expects to have a good time, and she’s never disappointed! Oh, for the grace to be more like Grace, I pray. Just don’t give me her propensity for chasing rabbits!

“For out of His fullness (abundance) we have all received…one grace after another and spiritual blessing upon spiritual blessing and even favor upon favor and gift [heaped] upon gift.” –JOHN 1:16 (AMP)

WHAT Tree?

Today I hauled some alfalfa compost out to one of the new windbreaks to apply to the little golden willows. The job would have taken minutes, not hours, except that most of the tree fences were nearly disassembled and required reshaping and rewiring. Many of the t-posts that the fences been fastened to were also bent this way and that. The black hairs stuck in the fencing, trampled ground, some broken willows, and the many cowpies revealed that the culprits were of bovine ilk, and they must have mistaken the tree cages for scratching implements. Ironically, there are two mature tamarisk trees (a weed and a nuisance, in these parts) only yards away that they could have scratched on.

I’m tempted to take back every good thing I’ve ever said about cows!

A victim of an itch.

“A bruised reed He will not break, and a dimly burning wick He will not quench….”     –ISAIAH 42:3

Spit and Polish

Cows may not be the most hygienic of creatures, but most of them spend quite a bit of time scrubbing and grooming their calves, their rough, wet tongues serving as water, soap, washcloth, and brush. It doesn’t sound very sanitary, I know, but after their baths, those calves look every bit as spiffy as do people who have just showered, shampooed, moisturized, deodorized, gelled, and blown dry! 

 One of Isabelle's frequent baths

“I’ll pour pure water over you and scrub you clean. I’ll give you a new heart, put a new spirit in you.” –EZEKIEL 36:25 (MSG)