The Business of Calving
This week's cold weather has been a force to be reckoned with, and we are glad to see it go. With the temperatures slowly climbing the stress of calving becomes less and less. Seeing fresh new babies come into the world with their first breath consisting of sub-zero air, it's impossible not to worry that another will come when you aren't there to make sure it gets a good start. And that's no idle worry. Even with the warmer weather, things can always go wrong and we can't be everywhere.
This time of year, especially, makes me think about our critics. The people who talk about our lack of love for our livestock. I can just about guarantee none of them have stood and watched a rancher work on a calf for hours, even days, to get it going. They haven't seen us bring a calf into our homes to try to nurse them back from the brink. And not one of them has been there to witness the reaction when our efforts have failed and we lose a calf. That reaction, no matter how it's expressed, is something that can leave no doubt of our love for what we do or the animals we care for. This is not just a loss of monetary profit, it's a loss of life. And it's something that can't be understood until it's seen. So we shed a tear, kick the dirt, curse the weather, or the world, and move on. Check the next heifer, the next new life, and do our best for them. This business of calving is the business of life, and it's not always fair. But we do what we can, we take the joys with the sorrows, and we hope the sweets outweigh the sours.
Example: As I sit here in my warm house with my babies sound asleep, I think about Brandon. He came home, ate as fast as he could, and went back out into the cold dark night to help a heifer get her calf on the ground safe. He's been gone almost two hours and who knows what time he will get home. And at 2 am he'll be up checking them again.
By: Megan Greet