Did I complain about the heat last week? Well, erase that because I probably didn’t even know what hot was when I wrote it.
Mother Nature has introduced me to sizzle this week. I remember back in March how hopeful I was about getting some warmth and could hardly wait for longer days full of sunshine. Kick me, go ahead and let it rip, dang it. I deserve your best!
My close relative has calluses on her knees from working around the tomato plants trying to coax them to live. Her squash died a violent death. She pulled them up by the roots and fumed all the way to the pasture fence before throwing them over it. I know the tomatoes are not able to produce any more fruit; the last ones had hard spots and cores too tough to cut.
We nearly missed the second cutting of hay. By the time the offspring got to hauling in the first cutting, the heat had about burned the rest to the ground. I figure on turning in some heifers to auto bale some of the fields. If the army worms come along they will starve to death!
I have lived in this kind of weather and won before. We beef producers are tough old hides and we raised the same.
It is a shame when the leathers on your saddle begin to curl up and your bridle reins are so brittle you are afraid to tie up with them. But we still have water and are not fighting bandits, so I reckon we will survive this little spell too. The offspring look skyward, wipe sweat from their eyes and keep going. Makes me and their mom proud.
One old hide, a cow whose DNA goes back about 20 years, struggled all spring to give some milk for her calf. She was lame for awhile and we doctored her till she got well but she lost a lot of weight and never did have the desire to graze enough to build her body mass and produce milk too. I found her dead this morning, her big old bull calf grazing on some weeds nearby. Kinda sad, I know she wanted to raise that spring baby before she headed to the bone pile.
We gathered up a couple of horses and I drove the truck and pulled the trailer down to the area where the calf was. The offspring pushed him into the corner horseback and the older one roped the bovine. He fought the rope until he was frothy and worn to a nub. We got him loaded — and that was no small feat — hauled him to the barn and put out feed, hay and water for him.
It is my opinion, and everybody has one, there are some things to which you just can’t be good. I did everything in my power to make that bull calf happy. I gave him high-priced victuals, a flake of good Bermuda hay, a clean and fresh water tank filled with cold well water, and would you believe that critter turned up his toes and died? Well, he did. And since he died in the barn, we are going to fix that west door in order to haul him off! More work and it is still hot!
Stay still as possible, keep drinking cool water and be careful where you pen up ignorant bull calves!
— Bill
Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.