Karbon Kounty Moos

Mrs. 49 finally got around to having her son. Last year she was first. This year she’s second to last. Well, maybe third or fourth to last. I have a couple of tail enders. Mrs. 49 likes to stay by herself with her calf the first few days. Last year she was out in the field for several days. I know that she had to be going to water, but I never did observe it.

I was surprised to see her in the feedlot the other morning. I locked her in and went out to eartag her calf. I found him resting above the creek. He was not asleep, but watching me. I started to straddle him, and he threw me off, bellowing. I’m not sure who was more startled. I followed him, tagger in hand, laughing.

He turned around, roaring - and started head butting me. There was no way I could hold him, and I was getting my butt kicked. Or at least I was getting my legs butted. He was getting madder and I was laughing harder. He gave up, ran away, and started flinging himself into the fence. I tried to get him away from the barbed wire, but he was too wild. I walked back to the pickup and watched as he headed north, still slamming against the fence. When he reached the open gate he was still bellowing. He didn’t need open gates, he went through the next gate, continuing north. Then he headed west across the new plank bridge. That floored me. I’ve spent plenty of time trying to convince cattle over bridges. Some will never cross, preferring to swim. They at least like to give you a hard time about it. This calf wasn’t twenty hours old and he’s heading to Red Lodge on his own.

I went and let Mrs. 49 out. Her calf was no longer on my place. I thought that if she’d look for him, after much bellowing - there should be a reunion. I drove over to my father-in-law’s, and turned Rocky around. He was still making all kinds of noises. His mother was beyond the fence, across the pasture, on the opposite side of the creek loudly searching for him. I was behind him, making my best baby calf noises and calling for bossy. She completely ignored us, even though she could see and hear us. Her calf was not where she left it, and that’s all she knew.

The calf was on a mission - he had to get away from me. He went east through the fence into the pasture. I ran back to my pickup, watching as he ran the fenceline. I had my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t go out on the lane. I drove into the pasture behind him. He spotted my pickup and scrambled over the ditch. I got out and tried to head him northeast to mom on the opposite side of the creek. He turned around and stared at me, a long string of blood hanging from his mouth. Then he ran straight at me. I ran straight at him yelling. He decided to turn tail. Thank goodness. I would have hated to have to explain all this to the 911 dispatcher.

Pronunciation:
\ri-mis\
Function:
adjective
Etymology:
Middle English, from Anglo-French remis, Latin remissus, from past participle of remittere to send back, relax
Date:
15th century

1 : negligent in the performance of work or duty : careless

2 : showing neglect or inattention : lax
synonyms see negligent

— re-miss-ly adverb
— re-miss-ness noun

I don’t think it’s neglect, inattention - perhaps. I have been busy, so this little blog of mine doesn’t shine. Honestly, everything internet and computer related has suffered. My iMac died after six months. It wasn’t sick, didn’t have an accident, it simply crashed. Can anyone explain that? Why does Apple only have a 90 day warranty? Inquiring minds want to know. I was not overworking it. I am using my old Dell now. I use the internet when my modem works. Which is about half the time lately. Forget about printing. Oh Brother, it works as a copier, but I was using it with the mac and can’t find the installation cd. What made me cry about this? Six months of photos gone with the wind. I know, I didn’t put them anywhere except iPhoto. Yes, some of them made it to flickr, but you know how many photos I take. Too many.

January was hectic. Sugar and I traveled to Casper. I used cruise control, so we met no law enforcement officers. The toaster behaved very well. I would have liked to have visited Casper, but my time was limited. I saw my room, a takeout window, a gas station and the hotel that the meeting was at. It was business, no pleasure whatsoever. I probably wasted my time and breath.

My home is known as ” the place where vacuums come to die.” This has something to do with three dogs, one cat, a lot of dirt, and a woman who does not enjoy cleaning. I used to call it bad vacuum karma - but it goes beyond vacuums. My two year old washing machine was out of commission for a couple of weeks. I even went to the laundromat. Finally, the plumber had some time. Right after that, the thirteen year old dryer quit. I don’t find clothes frozen solid on the line amusing. Then I decided to give a water softener a try. The water is incredibly hard here, which creates unique problems. When the tech came out to put the softener in, he found that needed some plumbing installed before he could. Another job for the elusive plumber. That was done and the water softener was installed. The next morning my basement was under water. That’s the fourth time since June. At least this was soft clean water, not mud or the usual irrigation ditch water. Another tech came out and helped cleaned up the basement.

The following morning I went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. I had heard the airplane. Coffee makers are traditionally short-lived here. They die messy deaths. I took one look at the counter, and made myself a cup of tea. It was too early for bourbon.

I replaced the solar fencer last winter. It was ancient. No matter how new the battery was, it had seen enough sun. It was at the company for weeks before they determined it was time to let it go. I paid dearly for the young one, and it worked well. Until I hooked it up this year. Dead as the proverbial doornail, they just don’t make them like they used to. I put the electric fencer out with an extension cord. I knew that it was working, once I got it grounded properly. The brand new fence tester I bought wasn’t working, so I used the time-tested-testing method. Snap! Then the power went out. When did this happen? The day after the Cuisinart cratered. I lit some candles, found a flashlight, opened a bottle of beer and feasted on crackers and canned cheese. Didn’t want to keep opening the refrigerator.

Even though this has become “the post that Word Press and my browser kept chewing up” and it took me two days to complete -

Life is good.

The Sunday before Christmas, a friend and I went to Cody. As soon as I crossed the state line, I said to Nada, “I have to remember that I’m in the Cowboy State.” We were talking, and I wasn’t paying attention to the speedometer. Not long after, I saw the cruiser lights behind me. I pulled over, fumbling for my license, registration and insurance card. Actually, I couldn’t get my license out of my wallet, it was in there so tight. The police officer was very young and very serious. He asked, “Do you know why I stopped you?” I said, “How fast was I going?” Apparently 47 in a 35 is not a good thing. The officer went back to his car with my papers. I had never been pulled over before. Oh, I’ve been a passenger in vehicles that were pulled over more times that I care to admit, but I was never stopped while driving. I was wishing that I hadn’t recently viewed Super Troopers. The thought of the movie was making me laugh. When he came back to my car, he wished me a Merry Christmas and asked me to slow down. I apologized again for not paying attention, thanked him and also wished him Merry Christmas.

Not long after, Sugar and I traveled to Billings. I was just getting up to speed out of Bridger, singing along with the radio. I noticed a Carbon County sheriff vehicle make a u-turn. I was being pulled over. Once again, I got my papers together as the law enforcement vehicle sat behind me with lights blazing. Deja vu. The serious young deputy asked, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” I asked, “How fast was I going?” He replied, “You were going eighty, and the speed limit is seventy.” I said, “Oh. I’m sorry, I was singing with the radio, I was not paying attention to my speed, and I was only keeping up with the rest of the traffic.” He shook his head and took my documents. He sat in his vehicle behind me for what seemed like a long time. When he came back he handed me a written warning and told me sternly, “Slow down!”.

So, if you are passed by a toaster in Montana, I swear that it isn’t me. I have been re-introduced to my cruise control.

I’ve been tagged by the Yolo Cowboy. Since it is almost Christmas, I’d better get moving on this. The month of December has been a technical/mechanical disaster. Every piece of equipment has had issues. The 4455 was worked on, but then had a brake pawl failure. I had a major disconcerting moment while standing on the step with the diesel hose. The parked tractor was rolling forward. I considered tossing the nozzle and jumping, but I rode it out. Then my iMac died. Did you know that Apple has a 90 day guarantee? Neither did I and I bought it in June. The Dell laptop was fine, but then my modem went wacko. I had the feeder truck worked on. It’s like a new old truck now. I came close to driving a front tire off the rim on the 4455. Two new front tires on that baby now. My cows were tested by the state again. Everyone is AOK. I’ve been wrestling with the self waterers. Buckets of hot water and hammers in the morning. The washing machine acts up when it’s cold. It has been frigid. The dryer sounds like it has a bearing out - or maybe it is planning on blowing up. No laundry is getting done here. I probably wouldn’t have the time anyhow.

Oh, before I forget, here goes:

1. Wrapping or gift bags?

Either works.

2. Real or artificial tree?

Real, please. I didn’t have one last year. The year before Jenny brought a neat little artificial tree to the hospital for us. This year it was time again.
3. When do you put up the tree?

Right after cutting it down. No specific day.

4. When do you take the tree down?

Before Valentine’s Day.

5. Do you like eggnog?

I prefer the stuff you put in it. But I do love nutmeg.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?

Can’t remember.
7. Do you have a nativity scene?

No.
8. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?

A cheese grater and a hand can opener. But they were nicely wrapped.

9. Mail or e-mail Christmas cards?

Sorry folks, neither this year - or the last couple of years.

10. Favorite Christmas movie?

Probably A Christmas Story.

11. When do you start shopping for Christmas?

Ha!

12. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?

Food. Okay, shrimp scampi - my tradition.

13. Clear lights or colored on the tree?

Clear, but I’d love to find some of those old fashioned bubble lights.

14. Favorite Christmas song?

Coming on Christmas - by Joni Mitchell

Rules are…:

1. Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share Christmas facts about yourself.
3. Tag random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Well, I know that it’s late, but I’ll tag:

Aimee
Richmond

This RPPC (real photo post card) was published by the Red Lodge Drug Co., Red Lodge, Mont. It was postmarked Laurel, Mont. on 17 April 1910, addressed to Mrs. Hannah Smith, R5 Box 34 Dubuque Iowa.

The rear is very faded, so I’ll translate:

4/16/10
hello mother
Red Lodge no good
all foreighners cant
talk U.S. am
taking first train
for parts unknown
will advise later
yours, Geo.

There is so much good in the worst of us,
And so much bad in the best of us,
That it hardly behooves any of us
To talk about the rest of us.
Edward Wallis Hoch, Marion (Kansas) Record
(1849 - 1925)

I arrived early to find out where I needed to be. I walked up the stairs and into the Governor’s office. I explained who I was and why I was there. The first gentleman I spoke with didn’t know what I was talking about. He made a phone call, and a second gentleman came out. That man asked me where Representative Malcolm was. I told him that I didn’t know, and I sat down to wait. Needing to pace, I returned to the hall. I found Craig and we went back to the waiting room. Sandy, Jim and the Malcolms were right behind us. Jennifer McKee introduced herself. Then we were led to a meeting room and introduced to the Governor. And yes, I did pet Jag.

During a lull in the meeting, I explained why I was there. I said that they could put away the calculators. I wasn’t discussing figures.

On the day before Thanksgiving, 2005 my husband, Allan was told that he probably had pancreatic cancer. He had been sick for months before being properly diagnosed. The Monday after Thanksgiving it was confirmed. Circumstances forced us to sell most of our cattle in February 2006. We still had our calves. Allan wanted to sell them at the NILE sale as he had always done. We chose to keep our heifers and I sold the steers a few days after Allan’s funeral. Later that spring I bought a few registered Black Angus low birth weight bulls. Two half brothers were specifically purchased for the heifers. I planned to breed and feed the heifers, and sell them the following year. I kept these girls at home and babied them along. Sandy called in January, 2007 expressing an interest in running the heifers on shares. It was a good idea then - and it would still be a good idea. This was not a major money making proposition for any of us. I was sad when we loaded up the heifers, but happy that I didn’t have to sell them. I knew that they were going to a good place. No one could foresee what happened in May.

There was (and still is) an information/disinformation overload. The media was treated to more information than the ranchers concerned. At the beginning of this fiasco, few knew that I was involved. This unfortunate position led to some interesting conversations. I was treated to gems of gossip, wild speculation and ridiculous rumors. I permitted people to flap their lips.

With all the players in this script since May, one would think that someone from one of the agencies involved would have been in touch with me. After reading an article in the Billings Gazette, I called APHIS to test my cows at home. Is this considered a rapid response? I was losing my herd because of their policy, and I had to contact them?

I understood on May 18th that I was losing my heifer pairs. I read the law. I am not the only person who questions the scientific basis of that law. If livestock considered exposed to brucellosis must be slaughtered, so be it. But wildlife considered exposed to brucellosis are not slaughtered. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist or an epidemiologist to see that this does not make sense.

What a difference between the response to the wildfires of this summer and this disaster. Neighbors traditionally rush to help one another. You always hear about the overwhelming response from the community. Elected officials manage to take the time from their busy schedules to visit the fire lines. They’re right in front of the cameras and microphones, promising aid, making disaster declarations.

Was this not a fire to be extinguished? It seems that it was put out on our backs. This should not have been about politics.

We should not have been caught in a pissing match between acronyms. A friend called it a turf war. I saw battle lines being drawn. People had their own agenda, and it was ugly.

The governor assured me that several universities are working on better vaccines. That is good, but it is not enough.

We need to make an effort to work together toward the eradication of this disease. We need communication between all parties involved and interested. All the acronyms, wildlife advocates, livestock owners, veterinarians, and people who have been through the aftermath of this disease in the past. Some of those scarred from brucellosis have responded to previous entries here. We need people who are willing to sit down and speak rationally.

I was in Helena for the first time in over twenty years. Unfortunately, it was for business. You’ll hear about that in a bit. I enjoyed the drive, but I enjoy driving. The winds near Livingston brought home a point that a friend recently made. He said that my car was as aerodynamic as a brick. I made it safe and sound.

I had a wonderful supper with the Sprout clan. Thanks! I twisted Craig’s arm (not too much) to attend the meeting with Governor Schweitzer the following day.

Yes, I’ll tell you about that later. . .

After the meeting, I thought that I’d wander around downtown. I found an antique store, but my cell phone kept ringing, and I’d walk outside to talk. I suppose that was a good thing.

Mike called to say that he was just getting into town. He, too, had business in the Capitol. We met for lunch, then continued on our not so merry ways.

That evening I caught up with Martha. I met Martha through our blogs and flickr pages. She is an incredible artist. Martha works in different mediums, with a wide range of subjects. Because we’d never met in real life - we got together at McDonald’s. Neither of us exhibited overt Lizzie Borden tendencies, and I suppose that we look relatively safe. In any case, we were comfortable enough with each other to go next door for a Mexican dinner. Thank You! We agreed that we need to get together again. How about a blogger bash somewhere in the middle? Maureen and I were unable to connect, so maybe next time. . .

The next morning I drove home - mostly in the rain. I stopped again at Three Forks for their great coffee and sandwiches.

A few miles outside of Red Lodge, I visited friends. The toaster started misbehaving when I left their house.

It is now in the shop for the same issue. Third time’s a charm, right?

I will be in Helena to meet with the Executive Branch. Does anyone have any questions (regarding brucellosis, please) that they’d like me to ask?

This morning I saw that someone had hit a fox on the lane in front of the house. I put it on the tailgate of the pickup, which chose to die there, too. In the middle of the lane.

I convinced Sugar to leave the fox alone. We walked to the Mule.

The Kawasaki started right up. Then the shifter, too, decided it was a good day to die. So it’s running, it’s just not going anywhere. Deja vu. True to form, the mule is being obstinate about being pushed. Since this happened in front of the garage, my good pickup is now blocked in.

I moved the blocks on the back of the other pickup and disposed of the fox. Without the trailer.

By the time I got back the red and white pickup started. Thank goodness for spares.

Bye girls. . .

Goodbye to my beautiful girls and their healthy calves. Goodbye to years of selective breeding. Goodbye to another thing that Allan and I struggled to build.

They’re calling this herd tainted. A misleading headline. The Morgans have six cows considered positive. Three of those are home raised, bangs vaccinated cows with healthy calves. The other three are Corriente cows that weren’t vaccinated before they purchased them. Those longhorns also have healthy calves on them. These six have been segregated since the test results.

We’ve been called “welfare ranchers”. The USDA budgeted 22% for Farm and Commodity programs in 2003 - 2006. 11% went to Conservation and Forestry. 6% was for Research, Inspection and Administration. 2% went to the Rural Development Program. 3% was for International Programs. The Domestic Food Assistance Programs took 56%.

We’ve been told that we should be happy, that the government is giving us money for our diseased animals. These cows are no more diseased than the brucellosis exposed bison which are permitted to live and return to Yellowstone Park. These cows are our private property that the government is taking.

These cattle are considered “exposed” to brucellosis. Federal law requires brucellosis exposed livestock to be slaughtered. Federal law does not require “exposed” wildlife to be slaughtered. How is this a scientific solution to the eradication of brucellosis? People were crying over moms and babies. That slaughter did not happen. Ranchers have been vilified as rabid, evil, wildlife haters. Maybe there are some extremist ranchers, but most ranchers enjoy all animals. I don’t appreciate having hundreds of deer in my haystacks, especially knowing that they are relatively recent arrivals to this part of the Clark’s Fork Valley. It makes me wonder about the free all you can eat wildlife buffet being served here.

How did all of this happen? Even with CSI Montana, it is doubtful the actual source will be found.

The original “hot cow” would have been on the Emigrant ranch at the time she contracted the brucella abortus organism. This was not from a bovine source, but another ungulate - elk. How did the elk get this? Probably from the bison.

I understand the history of brucellosis. I am well aware that this is a cattle disease, transmitted from livestock to wildlife. History repeats and reverses itself. Brucellosis is now transmitted from the bison to other wildlife. Every recent case of brucellosis in cattle in the Yellowstone area has had a common denominator - elk.

The writing was on the wall from Day One. We knew that our cattle were going to slaughter. If there was a procedure in place, it should have been followed. We should have been kept abreast of what was happening. I know that Montana has not gone through this in years. I understand that the focus was shifted from our livelihood to the icon of Yellowstone National Park.

We were left in the dark. We apparently were not on a “need to know” basis. My heifers were headed for slaughter. I was getting more information from the Billings Gazette than the agencies involved. I had to call the Feds, not the other way around. I took in the speculation and rumors. I read utter nonsense. We heard from folks crying about “what we were doing to the industry”. My father-in-law was yelled at by a “neighbor” complaining about what I was doing. He didn’t call me. The Industry didn’t come to anyone’s rescue. We were in the middle of political posturing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I too, requested a sit down with the Executive Branch.

The slaughter of Jim and Sandy’s herd is not going to eradicate brucellosis. This is a political solution, not a scientific solution. A buffer zone around YNP is not going to solve the problem either. It would create new problems. Political problems, reaching far beyond the borders of the United States, not simply the “buffer zone”.

What is the solution? I don’t know, but I would like to see all parties involved putting their heads together to work toward trying to eradicate this disease. We need to protect and respect all of our resources. Farmers and ranchers make up a very small part of the United States population. Most of us would not be doing this if we didn’t love it. I know that these are beef cattle. I may not be a third generation Montanan like my late husband, but I understand that I am producing food. These cows were not for sale now. My heifers should have produced nine or ten more calves. Only then should they have been considered beef headed for slaughter. These calves should not be going to slaughter at this young age. They needed to continue getting their mother’s milk for quite some time. It isn’t going to happen.

Personally, I’d like to thank everyone who has been supportive the last few weeks. Your calls, messages, comments and emails have helped. Many of you didn’t understand what was going on. Don’t feel bad, neither did we. We’re all getting an education.

There are scarier things than disease:
Ignorance and arrogance
Taxes and capital gains

Stay tuned.