Karbon Kounty Moos

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.

We did have some incredible winds yesterday afternoon, though. I watched that expensive real estate blow south, then east, then south. Anyone cutting hay yesterday will be raking it before baling.

I’m not sure where this branch would have ended up if it hadn’t hit the forsythia and the bottom of the deck.

Creek crossings - gone:

Bridge missing:

Located downstream:

Willow tree casualty:

Basement - yuck. But other than that, no use complaining. . .

Yesterday was stormy. Thunder, lightening and lots of rain. I had to drive to Billings for a few things, including a replacement for my camera that I lost on Sunday. When I got home, the driveway was a river and the rain was coming down in sheets. I handled most of the packages, three wet and excited dogs, two telephone messages and my heated up take out supper. I still need to finish unloading the car.

This morning it was pouring buckets when I let the dogs out. I noticed that there was mud on the east side of the place. It looked like it had come in a wave. Oh, no. . . the basement was flooded - with mud - the east and the south side. What a mess. The ditch must have washed across the driveway during the night.

Silvertip Creek looked high when I went to get the mail. It wasn’t finished.

Normally, it would look like this:

after all the bad.

My cattle at home came up negative for brucellosis.

They were tested on Friday and I just got the results.

All of my beautiful heifers tested negative, but are considered exposed and will meet the same fate as the Morgan’s herd.

That’s as close as I get. No, not to her, but to having anything resembling good luck. After a morning full of delays - waiting for someone, I took off for Billings with the stock trailer yesterday. I had three old cows and three huge steers of my father-in-law’s to bring down to the yards. Sugar came along for the ride, which was relatively uneventful - on the way down. After I unloaded the cattle I discovered that I couldn’t close the trailer door. Hmmmm. . . one the helpful employees of Billings Live took the panel off and we put it in the trailer. I closed the middle gate behind it, wondering why I’d changed into clean boots and Levi’s. Where would I be without that ubitquitous orange twine?

It has saved me on several occasions. I always pick it up, being sure to have some in every vehicle. Along with gloves, sunglasses, tarp straps, toilet paper, blankets, dog hair, horse treats, knives and miscellaneous tools. When I drove through Silesia, an oncoming vehicle kicked up a stone that cracked my windshield. Between Edgar and Fromberg, the mailman pulled out right in front of me. Thank goodness the trailer was empty (not counting manure), because if I still had my fat load on it, I would not have been able to brake like I was forced to. Note to mailman: that little flashing light on the top of your car does not give you the right to pull out in front of everyone. Try looking first. At Fromberg, I stopped for a calming cup of coffee. It was either that or wait for the mailman.

I was in the feedlot, bedding down the steers and bulls. I had a bale of straw in the bucket and a bale on the spear. I dumped the bucket, to distract the boys from what I was doing at the rear of the tractor. Cattle get excited when you bring them straw, they start jumping and leaping, slamming their heads into the dry bedding. While they concentrated on the bale I had dropped, I worked on the speared bale. A large part of the bale was frozen solid, so I was having quite a time cutting and pulling the twine off. I knew that some of the cattle were banging into the other side of the bale as I worked, so I paid attention to that, too. From around the back of the bale came Bull #508. The photo below was taken eight months ago, he’s quite a bit larger and heavier now.

Uh-oh. . . He looked like he had on a halter. Except it was made out of orange baling twine. He must have buried his head in the bale that I had dropped, and got caught in it. It was wrapped around his muzzle and ears. It was tightly wrapped around his foreleg which he held off the ground up to his head. He had probably twenty pieces of uncut twine wrapped around him - taut. He had twine between his back toes, and around his legs. He was starting to freak out, and some of the other boys were taking an interest in his dilemma. They were playing - yes, heavy cattle do frolic - which can be fun to watch. But he was panicking. I was getting close to panic myself. Straw is not something you want to have to run on - it’s slick. I called Lynn on my cell, “You’re not going to believe this one, I’ve got a bull who is completely wrapped in twine. I’m in the bull pen. This is bad“. 508 ran as well as he could on three legs, with two bulls following and a bunch of steers. I watched and followed them. He went by the self-waterer, and then behind the bale. I half hid on the side of the bale and reached out with my knife. The twine was so tight it cut easily. As soon as he got his right leg back on the ground the rest loosened. I called Lynn, “I got him out.” Lynn came down to check on me anyway. By then I had all the straw spread and the twine picked up. Too much excitement to attempt any photos.

I’ve already heard the jokes about not knowing my own strength, thanks. . .