Typhoon's Diary, April 21

Typhoon has asked for the podium ... again.

 

 

La Dorada Typhoon's Diary

  

We all know how I feel about being let "out" to pasture with the girls, right? Well, we also know this is not a frequent occasion.  Here in the bull pen, we are left to our memories and stories of beautiful dames with horns the size of … well, you get it.

 

This day was unlike any other, we were eating grass, enjoying the sunshine, day dreaming and relaxing when we smelled something sort of reminiscent of a heifer. We all puffed out our chests, straightened up our posture, and made sure there was not any grass or hay stuck in our teeth. I led the pack, casually strutting around the pen over to the fence by the road in hopes of finding a beautiful dame awaiting me.

 

By now, I am sure you know I have an affinity for blondes. And yes, I have a soft spot for the red-heads too. I was starting to imagine the beauty I was about to encounter when, all of a sudden, the strangest looking thing I had ever seen walked up the road!

 

First, she was quite different in shape. Plus, she wasn't blonde or red-headed or even spotted. She was strutting around something awful. I mean really!!!

 

I started to turn back, to warn the boys not to come to the fence, but I was too late. As I turned around, they were all standing there in a row, mouths gaping open in disbelief. I nudged them and brought them back to reality. We made a plan to not make any eye contact with her. We even acted as though we hadn't seen her. We all casually tried to get as far away from the road and her as we could, trying to hide ourselves behind some trees . After what seemed like ages, someone came and led her back where she belonged. Her head was hanging low, and we boys were giggling. We all got a chuckle out of this one; she was so unsightly! She didn't have any HORNS!!!!!

 

Later, Carl came out and asked what we had done to the neighbors' cow to make her so self- conscious. Well, we did act less than gentleman-like, but we didn't mean to hurt her hornless feelings. Carl said next time we saw her we should apologize. We agreed, but she has never been seen again.

 

 

Weaning

I separated out Mom's four calves on Sunday. Working cattle can be easy, if you understand the "dance". It's the way you hold your head, the direction you look, the shift of your leading shoulder as you glide sideways that can tell one cow that *she* is allowed to go out the gate while you keep another cow inside the pen. If the sun is out, and you work slowly so the cows think *they* are in control, you win. LOL

These calves were born last June. We usually wean at 5-6 months of age, but winter was bitter this year, so we left the kiddos with their mothers instead. The herd sleeping together kept everyone comfy. 

The calves were familiar with that section of pens before weaning, because that's where the herd accesses the molasses tubs and salt blocks. (We start that preparation a month or so ahead of time, so the calves will find it familiar when we wean.)

These four youngsters are close to Mom's house, so she stands out there and talks, sings, etc. to them while she's filling the stock tank for the cows. She puts a little hay out every time she visits them, 4-6 times a day, so they think she's the cat's pajamas. LOL

But the calves do wonder why their mothers don't miss them. (I know why. Those mommas were probably tired of sharp little teeth grabbing on to their teats. hehehe) The mothers come up once a day for a nice drink of water. Stop and stare at their kids. And then nonchalantly walk away.