It's the life of a rancher.....

Yesterday morning dawned crisp and cold, but the sun was rapidly making headway against the chill. By nine o'clock breakfast was a distant memory, the chores were complete, and I was at work in my office. As I walked to the kitchen to refill my coffee I stole a glance outside......and there she was.


She was all alone, standing on a small rise not far from the house. The rest of the herd was still milling around the feed bunk, searching for that last crumb of food that by now was long gone. She, on the other hand, had wandered off by herself to find a perfect spot to give birth.


I was transfixed as she walked in small circles, settled down in the tall grass, and two minutes later, stood up again. She alternated between standing, lying down, walking in circles, and generally trying to find a level of comfort that only ends when the labor is complete. It wasn't the first time I'd viewed the process from afar, especially with these mature cows who've been through the experience many times.


I watched for awhile, then retreated to my office to make a dent in the heap of paper that needed to be sorted into more manageable piles.....neatly stacked so I could pretend that I'd made progress. But, the lure of new life drew me back to my viewpoint. An hour later she was still struggling, and I decided to make a visit. As I got into my coat and boots I saw that she had finally completed her arduous task. She was busy cleaning her new baby, so I decided to give her some time to bond before I ventured outside to check the results.


There's something about the birth of a new calf that still gives me a small thrill. As I walked across the pasture I anticipated the moment when it would struggle to its feet and seek both nourishment and comfort from its proud mama.


Something was wrong. The calf was lying too still and too awkwardly......not a good sign. Mama was still licking and nudging it as she tried to somehow will it to live. Alas, it was not to be.


It's not unusual to lose a calf, but it's always sad. I've had many years where we were 100% successful, but not this year. This was the second death and we've only just begun the season.


I could lament the loss of productivity and the loss of dollars, but quite frankly, it's the loss of life that bothers me the most. I hate to see the mournful look in that mama cow's eyes when it becomes evident to her that there is no life in her baby. Then, for a few days she will traverse the pasture, lowing in a sad and lonesome manner that's almost human.


Some will say that it goes with the territory, but if that's the case, I don't much care for the territory. I'm hoping for better days ahead, and for short memories of the bad times.


If you're going to be a rancher you have to deal with the bad and the good. I understand that, but nowhere is it written that you have to like it......I certainly know that I don't!