Karbon Kounty Moos

Yesterday was unseasonably warm. We had our warnings, though. The temperature dropped twenty degrees in about forty minutes, just before dusk. By six o’clock it was snowing and blowing from the north. I know, it is winter and this is Montana. I had plugged in all of the equipment that I’d need for feeding.

This morning it was still snowing and blowing. It was just below zero Fahrenheit. The yard was full of drifts. I had to shovel out of the front door and into the garage. When I went to start the feeder truck, I noticed cattle huddled by the new barn. They had knocked down the electric wire. They could have walked right into the yard, but they hadn’t. I put Sugar in the truck, but I didn’t dare start it. I chased the cows into the pasture, and picked up the wire. I didn’t have enough slack to connect it, and I couldn’t find the insulator. I dragged a couple of Powder River panels out of the ice, across the non-existent gate, and wired them shut. Then I got into the truck, which would not start. I cranked the window down, so I could push the outside button to open the door. I let Sugar out first, instead of having her knock me out the door. I held tightly to the door as I got down and out, so the wind wouldn’t slam it into the already demolished windshield.

I went into the garage, started the pickup and left it idling. I went in the house and called Lynn. He said that he’d come down and give the International a jump. I told him that I’d go get the tractor started. The tractor is in a shed about a half mile away. The road was dry - but there were some incredible drifts. There was one right against the shed doors. I had brought the scoop shovel. I got the tractor started and let it idle. When Sugar and I got back to the yard, the feeder truck was running, and Lynn was getting the hot wire back up. Thanks Lynn!

Then I saw the drifts in the alley. There was no way I would be able to feed on the north side of the lot. I had gotten stuck twice on Christmas Day in smaller drifts. The bald duals on the driver’s side probably didn’t help, either. I was not going to do that again. Fortunately, there was still silage in the north bunk. The north side of the board wall - where I usually drive around the lot was even worse. I wouldn’t attempt taking the pickup back for a look. Lynn said to leave it for today, but that he’d clear it with the tractor tomorrow. I thanked him for getting things going. He told me that Jan wanted me to come up for lunch. Everyone wants to make sure that I’m eating. I am. I put the pickup back in the garage.

Next, Sugar and I brought the feeder truck to the silage pit. Then we walked across to get the tractor. I loaded silage for the cows and heifers, and left the tractor running at the pit. I fed the girls, sliding around the alley on the ice under the snow. Then I got the pickup and drove to the shed. Back in the tractor, I speared a bale of straw and hooked a bale of hay in the bucket. I took the tractor back to the lot. After struggling with panels and gates, I fed and bedded down the boys. We went back to the stacks to do it all over. The heifer pen was so badly drifted, I didn’t think I’d ever get in the gate. Where would I be without the scoop shovel? I called Jan on my cell phone and told her that there was no way I could be there by noon at the rate I was going. I did use some words that I won’t repeat. She told me not to worry, and just come up when I could. Thanks, Jan.

I finally got enough of the drift out of the way of the gate, and went into the heifer pen. Sugar was bored, but she stayed with me the whole time. I brought the tractor back to the shed. When I came home, I took off a few layers of clothes, cleaned up and drove to Lynn and Jan’s for lunch. Which was great - and was my breakfast, too. It was wonderful just to sit and visit for a while.

I went home and I put the layers back on. My canine assistant insisted on coming with me. Once again we went to the shed and I fired up the John Deere. We went across to the stack yard for bales for the cows and bred heifers. Up and down the lane a couple more times to feed and bed down. With some luck, tomorrow I may only have to feed silage.

It’s just cold. There is nothing romantic about not being able to wash your face because the pipes have frozen. Which means that my cattle don’t have access to water. That is far more important than washing my own face. There’s nothing romantic about a distress call to a friend at 7 A.M. There is nothing romantic about layers of clothes when you’re still cold. There is nothing romantic about not being able to tell if your nose is running. There is nothing romantic about driving twelve miles to buy insulation. There is nothing romantic about plugging in pickups and tractors. There is nothing romantic about diesel gelling. There is no romance in telephone calls about barley, strays, fuel tanks, vaccines and sugar beets.

It may not be romantic. It is my home and my life. I love it.

For many long years I’ve played a lone hand
I rode my horse in many strange lands
Until one day I stopped for awhile
For two warm eyes and a sunny smile

So howl away you old coyote
I hear your sad and lonesome song
You’re calling me back to old Montana
Back to those hills where I belong

One day I rode away from home
I’m a’ traveling back and it won’t be long
I’ll see you again in a little while
You’re my darling sweet, my welcome smile

So howl away you old coyote
I hear your sad and lonesome song
You’re calling me back to old Montana
Back to those hills where I belong

So howl away you old coyote
I hear your sad and lonesome song
You’re calling me back to old Montana
Back to those hills where I belong

From the BBC NEWS

comes this startling claim:

Cows have regional accents like humans,
language specialists have suggested.

Click on the link to read the article. You can hear the proof.

MOO. . .

Even the mud is welcome. . . These photos were taken last year. The mudholes are the same, but no blue skies today. It’s still raining.

Yesterday morning started out well. The first order of the day was to get the raccoon out of the trap. I’ve learned to do that before I let the dogs out. The dogs aren’t happy about it, but it makes my life easier. Later in the morning, I was wishing that I had my camera in my pocket.

There were two Sandhill Cranes in the hayfield that wouldn’t have needed a zoom lens to capture. One was dancing, hopping and popping. The link has better photos than I could have taken, and you can listen to them, too.

In the afternoon, I started walking to the mailbox, when I noticed a snake in the driveway. Once again, I lamented that my camera was in the house - for about two seconds. No time for a Kodak moment. . .

This was not the snake in my driveway, I don’t know if they were related (they did meet the same fate).

The adrenaline was pumping. I needed to get the dogs in the house now. For reasons known only to them, all three went in when I told them to. I grabbed my shovel from the Mule.

Then I looked down. Oh no, that won’t do. . .

These lovely feet aren’t mine, the image is from Sue’s Sparkler.

I ran into the house and put my boots on my bare feet and over my jeans. Not as stylish, but safer. I contemplated my pistol, but thought better of it. The snake had moved a bit further in and was not happy to see me. I was happy that it had not gone into the tall grass a few inches away. A few minutes later I let the dogs back out.

In the early evening I went through the heifers with Lucky on the Mule. A few days ago I pointed out a heifer to Lynn. She was very heavy with calf. I put the bulls in on the 20th of May. She apparently was bred before we weaned last November. Uh-oh. . . I left the pasture and dropped Lucky back at the house and called Lynn. Who probably wished that he hadn’t answered the phone.

“Lynn - it’s Karen - the heifer- she’s starting to calve - I’m gonna need help - I had to drop the dog back at the house - I don’t know how long she’s been at it - she doesn’t seem to be trying - I’m on my way back down there - she’s got one foot out - I’ll get her in the corral - or the barn - see you there.”

I was born in NY - not only can I talk fast - I’m pretty good with run-on sentences.

I had the cattle moved when Lynn arrived. I think that the bulls had been bugging her in the pasture. We got her in the barn without any problem. She laid down and looked like she was going to give it a go. We left her alone while we went to irrigate. When we returned to the barn she was a changed heifer. No, she didn’t have her calf - she simply decided that she wanted to beat the snot out of us. After a few hairy moments we got her in the maternity pen. We got straps on the calf’s feet and Lynn started pulling. Then we started pulling. Mama pushed a little. The calf was huge - and very much alive. As soon as we got its head out it let us know that it wasn’t thrilled with any of us. The calf came easily to about its shoulders. That was it. I got the calf puller off the wall and fumbled with it. Lynn pulled, Mama pushed, I pulled, we ratcheted, the feet slipped out of the straps, we started over. Finally - it’s a girl! We brought the calf to a pen and released Mama, who still wanted to run us over. She went in with the calf, and we left them alone. Sitting on the Mule, dirty and tired, I said to Lynn, ” I hope none of the other heifers are that pregnant”.

I filled a bucket with oats and went to the barn. I gave Mama some water and hay. I saw that she hadn’t licked the calf, so I poured oats on it. A couple hours later I went back and saw that the oats were gone and the calf was now lying beside her. I gave her more water and went home to bed. When I checked in the morning the calf was nursing.

I’ve been neglecting the blog. No, I’m not on vacation. Busier than ever - the usual story. I was very fortunate to take in several day trips while Linda was here. It was unbearably hot the entire time - so there were a few places we didn’t attempt. We tried to visit cool spots.

Which were few and far between. August is here and the weather has somehow cooled down a little. The yearling heifers are enjoying the irrigated pasture.

That’s clover blooming, not dandelions going to seed.

They’re fascinated with the horses.

I’ve just realized that the last time they saw horses was trailing home in October.

I’m happy to report that Maggie is home and seems to be doing okay. I took Lucky to the vet yesterday and he was pleased with the way her foot is healing. Which was a relief - since the vet was talking about amputating her toe on Thursday. He also gave me a different medication for Ty to calm him. It’s wait and see all around.

These girls were moved yesterday.

I went out to check on the cattle in the hills and bring them some salt.
I left the pickup and started walking.

To the east are the Pryor Mountains.

To the west are irrigated fields of the Clark’s Fork Valley.

Here’s the road - that I didn’t take.

REA came out yesterday to install new power and poles. The heifers were interested in the proceedings. I noticed the herd watching the crew. They decided to watch me when I came by with the camera.

I had to go to Red Lodge in the afternoon to buy some cement. This gave me an excuse to visit friends who ranch a few miles down the road. Enjoy some of their flowers: