Author: lonesomeadmin

Prairie Wool

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date June 3, 2014

I love native prairie. I enjoy the beauty of uncultivated, wild prairie wool and also feel that is has a sense of timelessness. Prairie landscapes are dynamic and always changing in subtle ways, yet remain unchanged in many other ways.

There is an estimated 15-20% of Saskatchewan’s native prairie remaining, a good portion of which is located in southwest Saskatchewan. Land that was deemed too rocky, too desolate, or not ‘productive enough’ was left unploughed, and even referred to as ‘wasteland,’ a rather desperate-sounding and unaffectionate term. The funny thing about this prairie wasteland, though, is that it is able to sequester carbon and other nutrients; it provides critical habitat for pollinators, wildlife, and species at risk; it can filter, buffer and improve water infiltration; it is a highly valuable source of biodiversity; it provides livestock with a varied and nutritious diet for livestock; it serves as a link to our natural history; plus a few dozen other ecological odds and ends. Not bad for a wasteland.

Some folks, like ranchers, respect and appreciate native prairie 365 days a year, because it is a fundamentally important resource for their business and family. These brittle working landscapes are beautiful, yes, but ranchers require a large amount of perseverance (and capital) in order for them to rear livestock and make a living off of native prairie.

Other prairie enthusiasts, such as biologists and technical specialists, show their appreciation for prairie in odd ways, like speaking Latin when referring to prairie plants and animals, or conversing in 3- and 4-letter acronyms, including EGS, RHA, and NPAW. Armed with quadrat frames, bug spray and sunscreen, they quantify plants and other species, looking for good, better or best indicators of trends and ecosystem dynamics.

One thing all on-the-ground prairie stakeholders have in common, regardless of whether they wear cowboy boots or hiking boots, is their ability to keep anyone apprised of the local tick situation, on a tick-by-tick basis, better than anyone else. Trust me.

Many, if not most people in Saskatchewan, have never set foot in a native prairie ecosystem and may not understand its importance. Demographics have shifted, and Saskatchewan’s once rural-based population is now skewed towards urban areas. Far removed from prairie, and agriculture in general, many perhaps don’t understand the intrinsic values that prairie provides for all of society, or the beneficial role that ranchers or other landowners and managers play in these sustainable agricultural ecosystems.

Every year, Saskatchewan proclaims the third week in June (this year June 15-21, 2014) as Native Prairie Appreciation Week to help generate awareness about this valuable natural resource. Fondly referred to as NPAW (here we go with the acronyms), it’s a time for ranchers, students, prairie stakeholders, and ANYONE to come together to learn and share ideas and experiences about prairie and its management. Ironically, I was so busy with the business side of organizing and promoting prairie appreciation events this year that I hadn’t made enough time to….appreciate my own native prairie. Fortunately, this was quickly remedied with a drive thorough the cows on one of the nicest evenings we’ve had this spring.

We can all enjoy prairie for one reason or another. Perhaps it reminds us of simpler times, or the home of our youth, or perhaps it’s a favorite hunting or hiking trip that we’ve enjoyed. Maybe it inspires

creativity within us, or resiliency. It’s worth taking time to appreciate native prairie and the species (including ranchers!) that make their homes there. Mother Nature isn’t exactly making any more of it.

Critters & Kids House & Homestead

The Year(s) of the Gopher

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date April 15, 2014

The arrival of spring brings feelings of hope, renewal and much needed sunshine and warm weather. Across the board, springtime is a welcome and festive time for all. There is, however, one thing that spring brings, that I do not enjoy…

Gophers. Richardson’s ground squirrels. AKA The Bane of My Existence.

It’s a little awkward sometimes, my strong dislike for gophers. In addition to being a rancher, I’m actually also a trained and practising rangeland agrologist. This means I wander the prairie grasslands, poking and prodding and counting and identifying and generally assessing, from a scientific point of view, the state of a particular pasture grassland ecosystem. And gophers are an important component of the prairie ecosystem and a critical link to many prairie food chains.

But I don’t care.

On a beautiful native prairie grassland landscape, in well-balanced numbers, gophers are all fine and good. Go ahead, little rodents, and enable a thriving, functional ecosystem. But on my personal, non-native-prairie property (including but not limited to my yard, tame pasture and cropland) please cease and desist. Or if you must exist, at the very least do so in a normal manner.

Several years ago, shortly after my Other Half and I set up permanent camp on a previously uninhabited homestead, we, along with our neighbours, were in the midst of a very serious regional drought. Cropland and pasture land was blowing away in spite of every effort. Wells dried up. Crops failed. Any sub- or surface water that did exist was at an all-time dangerously low quality for human and livestock consumption. Gophers moved in. And they set up permanent camp, eating anything and everything they could get their little varmint paws on. In their wake they left behind a barren, desolate, hole-riddled landscape. You still can’t ride a horse across some of our pastures at a speed greater than a slow walk, because going any faster is, well, dangerous.

The open, dry winters we experienced favoured their existence and the latest I saw a gopher running around at that time was on December 23. The first gopher I saw appear was on Valentine’s Day. That’s not much hibernation down time. If it sounds bleak, that’s because it was.

Attempting to establish a new yard site, I trapped the little gaffers in the two acres immediately surrounding my house. My three traps would snap almost as quickly as I could set them. Gophers not only ate fifteen out of sixteen tomato plants two hours after I planted them, they decimated them to the point that I questioned if I had actually planted them in the first place. Gophers dug down beside our foundation so that you could hear them from inside our basement. They swarmed my newly planted tree saplings and gnawed the buds right out of the bark. That was just my yard. I can’t even describe the toll that they had on crops, tame hay and pasture landscapes, and the corresponding pocketbooks of every farmer depending on those resources.
Eventually time, precipitation, and incredibly important natural predators caught up to the infestation. To this day, around our ranch we truly value the coyotes, foxes and numerous raptors that gradually helped bring the gopher population back into balance. All’s well that ends well.

I’m not reliving this time to dwell on a negative experience. Rather, this may provide you with a little background information on why the first appearance of a gopher’s beady little eyes will never be a welcome harbinger of spring for me. And why I love to see hawks circling overhead, or coyotes pouncing in the pasture. And now you know why I press on the accelerator just a little harder when I see one crossing the road.

Critters & Kids

Every Dog Has its Day

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date April 1, 2014

We spend a lot of time handling cattle throughout the year. Calving, sorting, trailing, treating, moving, gathering, turning bulls out, bringing bulls in… not a day goes by that we aren’t doing something. Some days everything run smoothly and other days don’t always go as planned but no matter what we’re up to, we are almost always accompanied by one or two of our four-legged Border collie friends.

A good dog can save you many miles, a lot of time, and make working cattle a whole lot more enjoyable. They prove especially handy if, hypothetically speaking, a person left a gate open and a whole bunch of cows and baby calves toddled out said gate and wandered into one’s yard. By administering a few simple instructions from the comfort of my deck, the dogs can round the critters up and chase them back where they belong all without you even breaking a sweat. So far, the only downside that I can see about a good dog is that they can guard a gate but can’t close the darn thing after they put the cows back where they belong. But we’re working on that.

Our dogs are our companions but they are working dogs and take their jobs very seriously. The best way to reward them is…. give them more work, strange as it may sound. Border collies have a boundless enthusiasm, which when channeled appropriately, makes them workaholics. At the end of a long day, when people and horsepower might be running low, they have an ever-present energy, wag their tail and look with interest to the next potential job.

Their affinity for bringing bits of dead unidentifiable varmints (sourced from goodness-knows-where?) and chunks of manure up to the house do not make them the most desirable of house guests. Our dogs are also pretty good at chewing up balls, Frisbees and whatever other super special kids’ toys then can get their grubby paws onto.

They say one year of a dog’s life is equivalent to seven years of a human’s life but I figure when the dog in question is a cattle dog, the formula might need to be adjusted. Cow dogs hang out in the back of a pickup or in a tractor cab, and log a lot of long miles in the pasture trotting behind a horse and rider. They nip at the heels of bovines when asked, dodge a kick (or two) to the head, and sometimes get in the wrong place at the wrong time when a truck or trailer drives away. A dog missing some teeth, an eye, or even part of a limb is sometimes more common than not in the cow dog subculture.

Between the kind look in their loyal eyes, their solid work ethic and the familiar thump of a wagging tail, we can all learn a few lessons from our four-legged friends. Every day is a little bit better when you spend some time with a good dog.

House & Homestead Ranch & Real Life

Safety First

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date March 18, 2014

Last week was Canadian Agricultural Safety Week. Having an officially proclaimed week is a great idea to bring attention to the issue, and I saw a lot of great information shared online and in print. But… ag safety is just as important this week, as it was last week, and it will be important next week too.

Agriculture is a fairly risky business from a safety perspective. You’re working long hours, often with little sleep, maximum stress, and you’re working in a variety of less-than-ideal weather situations. If you’re a farmer, you’re working around heavy and dangerous equipment, moving awkward-shaped implements and going full out, trying to beat the impending rain/snow/wind/storm. If you’re a rancher, you’re working with heavy animals that have ideas of their own on how to move, where to go, and how to get there. Ranchers are also using heavy equipment and logging long hours trying to beat the weather or the dark to get those last few head through the chute, or treating cattle out on the range all alone. Whatever your sector, the risks are prevalent.

One of the things I enjoy most about ranching is that it involves the whole family, however, ag safety takes on a whole new dimension when you have a truckload of little “helpers” along for the ride. We constantly repeat the same refrain of “don’t touch that!” and “stay away from those!” While it feels repetitive, I know I should talk with our children them even more, explaining the why’s and the how’s and getting them thinking about safety for themselves.

Around our ranch, we’ve had a few wake up calls, although fortunately nothing major. About the worst thing to have happen took place years ago when my Other Half suffered a gash in his forehead after a minor incident. Dripping blood all over my nice clean floor (this was in our pre-children life) he said “I think I’ll be just fine.” I’m not much of a nurse and an unsympathetic one at that, but after appraising the situation, I figured it was best to stuff him in my little car and drive him to the doctor. “Why don’t you try and have a nap?” I said soothingly on the drive in. “Uh, shouldn’t I avoid sleep in case I have a concussion?” Right. “Well then lay back and rest.” “Aren’t I supposed to keep the wound elevated to slow blood flow and aid in clotting?” Bottom line, one of us got full marks in First Aid, and one didn’t. And I’m not a nurse. But we did get him stitched back together.

Agricultural producers are busy people. We get distracted, we feel pressure to get the job done, we cut corners to save time, and we make mistakes. Sometimes these mistakes are minor and result in wasting an afternoon in the ER, like my husband and I did that day. Sometimes these mistakes are more than “close calls.” We all know someone that has been so lucky to survive a farm or ranch accident. And chances are, we know someone who hasn’t. These people were all smart, skilled, hard-working people and good at what they did, whether it was growing a nice crop, making the perfect bale, or raising good cattle. For their neighbours, friends and families, farm safety hits home hard.

The motto for Canadian Agricultural Safety Week last week was “let’s talk about it.” So let’s keep talking, let’s encourage one another, let’s tell someone know what farm jobs we are planning on doing and how long it might take, and let’s think about what steps we would take in an emergency situation. Perhaps some of us should recertify our First Aid training. Maybe we should all just slow down and take those extra precious seconds to think about the job at hand and the potential risks associated with it.
Ag safety is so often pushed aside because we’re “too busy.” But we talked about it last week. Now let’s talk about it today, and tomorrow too.

Critters & Kids

Keep Your Friends Close

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date March 4, 2014

Mules are interesting creatures. They live up to their notoriety of being stubborn. They somehow complete tasks that should be impossible considering they don’t have opposable thumbs. From a biological standpoint, due to a differing number of chromosomes between horses and donkeys, they are unable to reproduce, which is probably a good thing. Mules are eccentric and between those big ol’ ears, they have a strategic, quick-thinking brain.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I should mention that my opinion of mules has been formed solely by my experiences with Dexter, our mule-in-residence. I do not profess to be an expert on mules or their behavior, but I have no shortage of opinions about the one that I happen to share space with.

Dexter showed up in our barnyard one June day with a big red bow around his neck, making a spine-tingling racket that only mules can make. My Other Half had previously been acquainted with Dexter who, at the time, belonged to our neighbor. It turned out Dexter had outlived his usefulness there and made it on the fast-track to our ranch, right in time for my Other Half’s birthday. Over his lifetime Dexter has had several homes before ours, always getting traded for a dog, work, or something or other. Since he has been at our ranch, he has provided us with a constant source of amusement and frustration.Mules can be used to haul feed, pack materials, or pull heavy loads but we ride Dexter as if he were a ranch horse, and he can be surprisingly handy if he’s in the right mood. He can also be slow and cantankerous if he’s not in the right mood. He’s incredibly determined and if you correctly ask him to do something, he’ll complete the task every time, his substantial ears flopping in the breeze. But if you take a short-cut to get him to do what you want, he’ll be sure to punish you for it. Just like any mule, the old fellow has his quirks. When the going gets tough, he gets going….backwards. If he feels nervous or unsure of a situation, he pins his ears back and gets the heck out of Dodge, one giant step backward at a time.

Dexter is a real non-conformist. The horses ignore him, leaving him at the back of the pack when they roam around grazing, yet he gets to have the last laugh as he nimbly leaps over the cattle guard to wander onto my lawn whenever he so chooses. He calmly makes fecal deposits all over my front yard while maintaining eye contact with me, even as I run towards him, pelting rocks and hollering. It’s a funny little game we play. Just as calmly as he hops into my yard, he’ll gracefully jump back across the Texas gate into his rightful home where he belongs, watching closely as I add some additional mule deterrents to the gate.

Sometimes I’ll see him in his pasture when I leave home and he’ll be in the same spot when I return, but large mule-shaped tracks in the fresh snow tell me that he definitely didn’t stay where he belonged the entire time. Blinking innocently, he’ll look my way, and I know that he knows that I know.

Amidst all of his mulish ways, I can’t help but appreciate his character and substance and I definitely don’t underestimate him. We may be at odds from time to time but he has taught me a very valuable lesson — keep your friends close, and your mules closer.

Beef & Business Ranch & Real Life

Faster, Higher, Stronger: Calving Olympics

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date February 18, 2014

I’ll admit I’m not much of a sports fan, but when it comes to the Olympic Winter Games, I take a keen interest. I enjoy watching sports that don’t normally get a lot of coverage and I feel pride for Canada (and Saskatchewan!) when our athletes do well. Plus, it’s televised at odd hours of the day, which is kind of handy at this time of year when we are awake during those odd hours monitoring our birthing bovines.
It is calving season on our ranch and calving cows is not an official Olympic sport but it can feel a bit like a marathon at times. Similar to the Olympics, there are certain activities or “events” that are symbolic to calving. Below are some common events that can be fun or not-so-fun depending on the weather, the cows and my varying levels of sleep deprivation.

Cross-Country Freestyle Pen Walk: Manure, when fresh, is gooey but fairly easy to walk on or through. A cold cow patty is a much different story. Walking across a pen full of these hard, unpredictable lumps is a lot like walking on gigantic marbles, and about as graceful as it sounds. The competitor in this event must employ whatever freestyle moves necessary to avoid falling. To be successful, they must remain focused and maintain excellent balance. I don’t usually score so well in this one.
One-Person Calf Sled Pull: When a cow gives birth in the coldest corner of the pen and the wind chill is a brisk -45C, the nice thing to do is move her and her newborn into a warm, dry spot. Putting the calf in a sled and bringing it to a more inviting environment should be a fairly simple job. Factors such as the slippery nature of a newborn calf, the hormonal nature of a post-parturient cow and the aforementioned frozen turds can make sledding a calf quite a sport. Inevitably, the calf escapes the sled at least two times prior to reaching the finish line.
Corral Panel High Jump – this event, while sounding ambitious, is actually inspired by laziness. A spontaneous event, the athlete, when checking the calving pens for the 12th time that day, must mentally assess the energy requirements of walking all the way to the gate versus the energy requirements of scaling the panel closest to the exit of their choice. The level of difficulty increases with every additional layer of clothing the player puts on.
Coverall-Clad Horse Mount – As the temperature decreases, the layers of clothing one wears to brave the great outdoors increases. These additional layers can complicate matters when the participant is attempting to mount a horse. Immensely popular as a spectator sport, the coverall-clad horse-mount can cause an intense pressure to perform which is tough on competitors. Or so I’ve heard.
Bed-to-barn Relay– Every so often, there may be an occasion requiring immediate bed-to-barn mobilization. For this event, the contestant needs to wake, dress and be in the barn in a matter of minutes, if not sooner. Sometimes the player is even encouraged with a robust “Hurry hard! Hurry hard!” although it’s often unsportsmanlike language that may be hollered.

When participating in the calving season marathon, it’s important to pace yourself. A rally late in the game can boost your spirits, and leave you ending the season faster, higher and stronger. Or at the very least remain upright

Ranch & Real Life

The Truck Got Stuck

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date February 4, 2014

As a general rule, I’m not much of a risk taker. When making everyday decisions, I like to err on the side of caution. When it comes to driving out in the pasture or on questionable terrain, I definitely like to play it safe. This is partially why, over the years, I have been able to refrain from getting stuck. In fact if I really think hard, the last time I recall getting stuck was back in 2003. This particular incident wasn’t because I got held up in the muck or mud, it was because my tire got wedged in a dusty, tire-sized crevice on a dry trail. So that hardly even counts.

Other members of my household get stuck on a more, shall we say, regular basis. Sure, these specific members need to travel through snow and mud and manure much more often than I, but they do get stuck more than their fair share.

Recently my Other Half, our dear children, and I were out driving in the pasture behind our house to retrieve something. As a passenger, it seemed as though we were certain to get stuck. The snow was deep in some parts, and the banks were hard, and it really didn’t look as though my husband was choosing the best route. We got where we needed to go, he got out and said ‘why don’t you take the kids and I’ll meet you back at the house. Do you think you can make it there without getting stuck?’

‘Of course I can,’ I replied, a bit huffily. I haven’t been stuck in eleven years and I certainly wasn’t planning on changing that. ‘It’s really deep in some spots, especially on the side hills,’ my significant other added. ‘Thanks for the tip!’ I said, revving my engine and confidently making my way towards the house with my little brood in tow. I was breaking new trail, taking an entirely different (surely wiser) route than the erratic way we came. My new trail was straight and true. Until it kind of veered off towards a side hill. The snow on this particular side hill was a bit deeper than it looked. Quite a bit deeper, really. The snowbanks were pretty hard. Very hard, if you want to know the truth of it.

My speed was slowing at a disturbing rate until all of a sudden, we weren’t moving any more. It seemed as though possibly, just maybe, there was a slight chance that I was….stuck.

“Are we stuck, mom?” a helpful little voice piped up from the back.
After watching all of this from a distance, my husband handily caught a nearby horse that was in the same pasture as I, threw a string in its mouth, hopped on and rode up to me and my motionless pick-up. His look said volumes, but he said just one word: ‘Stuck?’ I nodded. With a sigh, he rode the quarter mile or so back to retrieve the tractor and pull me out.

A few minutes later, we hooked one end of the tow rope on my stubborn truck, the other end on to the tractor, I threw the gearshift in neutral and my Other Half proceeded to pull me out of the ridiculous snowbank. But he didn’t stop there. He kept on pulling, carefully weaving us through the rest of the pasture, over the Texas gate, down and around the winding trail, until we gracefully glided to a stop, right in front of our house.

“You didn’t have to tow me the entire way back!” I objected. “Oh, I just wanted to make sure you got back safely. Didn’t want you to get stuck again on a side hill or anything,” he cheerfully replied.

There it was… a generous, well-deserved slice of humble pie. In the future it looks as though I won’t be keeping such close track of who gets stuck and who doesn’t. For a few years, at least.

House & Homestead

Out with the Old, In with the New

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date January 21, 2014

The kitchen is the command center of our home, much like in many farm or ranch houses and probably most houses in general. It is the site where everyday activities take place that hold this business and household together. Bill-paying, laundry-folding, reading, budgeting, drinking (usually preceded by a grueling budgeting session) and writing out ear tags are just some of the activities that go on in our kitchen. From time to time, you might even see me cooking and serving food here. And around our place, home improvements are pretty low on the priority list.

When I was in a good mood, I would suggest our original 1961 kitchen was endearing in its functionality and cupboard space, not to mention its décor. The countertop laminate was held on with thumb tacks in several spots. I had removed the backsplash in some areas where I thought I would investigate and improve the wall beneath. Upon revealing some unpleasant things, it seemed best to abandon that project and pretend as though it was perfectly fine, despite the minor wreck I left behind. The lazy Susan, which lived up to its slack name, fell down every once in a while, regularly needing a lift. And the faux bronze plastic medallion drawer pulls were well aged. Enough said.

Since 2010, I’ve sort of been planning to get new cabinets. Leafing through glossy brochures, I determined I wanted something that was clean, white, classic and…. economical. It’s a kitchen after all, not a barn or a stock trailer. I visualized cabinets that stretched all the way to the ceiling, instead of the ones I had, which stopped short and concealed a dusty space full of unidentifiable ‘treasures.’ I pictured level countertops that were free of crevices holding bits of food from meals long gone. This imaginary kitchen even featured one of those newfangled automatic dish-washing machines, as well as a pantry that was located on the same floor as the kitchen.

It finally happened. A bit of unscheduled destruction, coupled with a major cabinet sale and a need for windows all but forced me into sort-of-planned-but-not-really-expecting-it-to-actually-happen kitchen renovations. It was tough to tell who was more surprised, me or the hardware store kitchen designer, when I rolled in and placed a deposit on my cabinets. According to the manufacturer’s booklet, they promised to “craft dream kitchens that fit every lifestyle,” even mine.

I didn’t want to think about how many cow-calf pairs I could have purchased for the price of this little project.

At the height of the renovation disorder, I was perking coffee on the bathroom counter, roasting beef in the living room, and using more paper plates than my tree-hugging heart appreciated. Strangely enough, I often found myself wishing my slow cooker could somehow cook faster. Fortunately, we didn’t starve, and the occasional neighbor, friend or feed sales rep that popped in and experienced the chaos first hand were understanding and very gracious.

The process, still ongoing, has been messy, and definitely gotten a little western at times. There was a fair bit of yelling on my part (mostly directed at my offspring), and a modest amount of nagging, but that is already a regular fixture in our everyday lives so it didn’t throw us off balance too much.

If all goes well, when my new and improved kitchen is completed I’ll have a lovely, functional space that, as promised, is tailor-made for my lifestyle. I just haven’t figured out what that is yet.

Ranch & Real Life

2014 is Brought to you by the Letter B

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date January 7, 2014

I enjoy this time of year. I’m not especially fond of the very cold temperatures, but I like the idea of a New Year with new adventures. Starting a fresh calendar. Opening up a new unspoiled day planner, enjoying those first weeks of coffee-spill-free planning, using pages that haven’t yet been ripped out for busy kids to scribble on to keep them… occupied.

Inevitably, everyone is in a self-reflective mood, looking back at the previous year, thinking about the future, resolving to lose weight, quit something-or-other, be better people, blah blah blah. I’m not really into resolutions, although last year around this time I did make the bold declaration that in 2013 I would get a dish washer. Mission accomplished, although it was installed just under the wire and it isn’t exactly a “resolution.” Members of my household would likely suggest this dishwasher may have made me slightly easier to live with, though, so perhaps it does fit into the self-improvement category.

Whether you have big things planned in 2014 or whether the year will come and go as status-quo (which is good too!), for many a cattle producer, 2014 will forever be associated with the letter “B.”

There is an International Letter Code that is assigned to each particular year, and it follows the alphabet. Except for when it doesn’t. So it’s pretty handy, but sort of confusing, and usually involves me mumbling a random reverse 22-letter cowboy alphabet, and counting my fingers. For pretty obvious reasons, letters such as “I,” “O” and “Q” are not used, as they look very similar to numbers. This becomes especially apparent, when ol’ Bessie runs down the chute and out the head gate without a backwards look at the patient data recorder who is left trying to determine if that was 24“I” or “two forty-one?” For similar reasons, the letter “V” is not used either, because who can really tell a “U” from a “V” at 800m away? Someone along the line made the smart call to eliminate these potential problems and any time a cattle handling marital “situation” can be prevented, it’s a good thing. Trust me and any ranch woman on the planet.

Some cattle producers use these letter codes and some do not, however most purebred breeders use this system. The code is internationally recognized and including it is essential when tattooing the ears of your registered livestock. We use this letter system for all calves born on our ranch, whether they are commercial, or registered purebred, because it works with our management system.

Everyone who uses the system can’t help but resonate strongly with certain calf crops and their corresponding letter. My (human) twin babies were born in the middle of calving season and coincidentally in the midst of many bovine twins, in the year X. I did not tattoo my children’s ears, however that is a popular question making me wonder what people actually think of my parenting skills. My youngest is a December baby, squeaking by to be a Z, but I think of her as an honorary A because she was a patient little baby through much of the time that our A calf crop was arriving. R is another special year for us because that is the first year that we calved out cows under our own registered prefix. Understandably, many ranchers get a little sentimental when they’ve come full circle (sometimes into the third or fourth circle!) and return to the letter they used for their first calf crop. And some ranchers remember certain letters that they would rather forget because they may have had a particularly challenging season or calf crop. All in all, the system is pretty handy, because it can quickly tell you if a female is a first-calf heifer, or an old crock, or if a bull has sired three or nine calf crops.

While everyone is ringing in the New Year, contemplating their personal resolutions and tactics for maintaining their new life-changing behaviours, know that for some ranchers, 2014 simply means that it’s a new year, and one that will be brought to you by the letter B.

Uncategorized

2014 is Brought to you by the Letter B

Post author By lonesomeadmin
Post date January 7, 2014

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