I think most of the skin on my chest, shoulders and arms has returned to a golden tan color instead of lobster red by the time I’m finishing this post up. Well, what isn’t peeling is now tan.
It’s been little more than a week since we worked our calves and I got one last hurrah in the sun tan department. Admittedly the calves got away from us, and some of the bull calves were looking like they could head out to the breeding pasture at any time. Luckily everyone survived, but barely.
A middle of the night arrival home from a weekend of rodeoing and football, turned into a slow Sunday morning. By the time we left the house with saddled horses, we still had to go retrieve the boys from their grandmother, get some doctoring supplies, eat and eventually go back to the house and get the tags.
We made it to the farm early afternoon, and by that time it was plenty warm. Thankfully we had a good south wind to help us out and not let anyone get overheated. The cattle were pretty close to the pens, and it took very little time to get them up to the pens. It did however take a little coaxing to get them through the gate into the lot.
Now, I’m experienced enough with sorting cattle horse back and can get things done when I have time to think and be a little bit deliberate. It may take me a few times to get things where they need to be, but I can normally get it done without any trouble. My husband, however, wanted things done a little quicker, and when it didn’t go as he wanted the first or second time, he stopped me and came up with plan C on the fly.
Once all the calves were in the alley ready to head into the snake and eventually the chute, we got a game plan. Spence would castrate and give shots and I was handed the tagger. Now, I’m nearly 40, and I again, have to admit, to this point I’d never tagged a calf—a lot like the fact I haven’t ever driven the tractor. That changed rather quickly when the first calf was in the chute. I got a quick refresher on where the tag goes and how to do it. However, my sleep deprived brain just wasn’t having it. Luckily we only had 29 calves to work, and by calf number 15, I had the process down. And in the end I was the one educating the oldest boy how to tag.
At one point the boys had gotten bored with exploring the shed and came to find us and see how they can help. Shaun’s always full of a million questions, and normally they come during the heat of a moment. He wanted to know something, and my husband was in the middle of something and brushed him off. I said, "maybe it’s time to teach him something so he knows what’s going on." Thankfully the teaching moment came a short time later. Since we were castrating calves, I sure hope my boys didn’t go to school the next day and have their own "teaching moments" with their classmates. I haven’t gotten a phone call yet.
There weren’t a whole lot of teaching moments when it came to livestock when I was a kid. We didn’t really have cattle around. The last time I remembered a cow herd in our home pastures was just prior to a blizzard that all but wiped them out. I was pretty young. We had sheep at one point and pigs, but those are pretty easy to take care of, and if you know cattle, you can basically figure pigs and sheep out. And the horses we learned through trial and error as we went.
It’s nice to be able to teach my own kids some of the things needed when it comes to handling and caring for livestock. I may not know everything, but between my husband and I we can likely answer or find the answer to anything thrown at us.