I can't believe it has been so long, over a year, since I have posted on this blog. I do apologize.
A lot has happened on the farm. Milk prices dropped to impossible lows and yet the cost of replacement cattle stayed way high, unless we were selling of course. Cull cows, or cows no longer able to be milked, were really low. Calves too were really low as a result of a new high in beef cattle populations. We just couldn't catch a break. The stress, sleepless nights, and series of dangerous situations have led us to put the farm up for sale. We are not young and have discovered that stress can make any illnesses you already have, such as rheumatoid arthritis in my husband's case, worse and steadily worsening. There is only two of us and now I have permanent injuries as well due to an ornery bull.
The Bull
We finally changed bulls from the Jersey bull that constantly harassed me as if he meant to kill me, to holstien bull. It was time anyway as his offspring were about ready to be bread and he was not the bull for the job. This new one though, turned mean rather quickly. In September I had accidentally left what is called a 'can't kick' on a cow and then she got turned out after milking. (It stops her from kicking the person doing the milking and she was really good at it.) I went after her immediately but she got away so I followed her into the pasture- all the way to the other side near the cornfield. Enter Bob (the bull) who did not want me near HIS ladies. I tried to get her to the barn again so I could safely remove the apparatus. Bob kept between me and her so I decided it wasn't worth it and would just go back to the barn without her. She actually did know how to get it off if it bothered her that much, any tree would do it, I just didn't want to lose it. Bob wouldn't let me leave the field and in fact put his head down and pawed the dirt. I started backing up because that is the attack warning. I saw him coming and threw my arm up somehow, I guess instinct, to protect my check because that is exactly he hit - right- square- in- the-chest, and he has big horns! I went flying threw the air about six feet but he was fast and I was stunned so I couldn't get away from his secondary offensive. He beat me with his head and used his hoof and horns to flog me over. When he backed up to start all over again (toying with me I think) I somehow had enough wits about me still to get to my hands and knees and crawl the rest of the way to the electric fence and get under it. I went through all sorts of sticker weeds poking my hands and my knees and if I got shocked on the fence I didn't even know it. I just hoped it was enough to keep him at bay. It stopped him but he still pawed the dirt daring me to try to get back to the barn. I couldn't walk by then so that wasn't happening.
I screamed over and over for help but for some reason my neighbor just the other side of that cornfield, which was narrow, could not hear me. My husband was still milking the last round and the equipment was running. There was no way he heard me and I was probably too far from the barn anyhow. I was in crying and in severe pain so I couldn't even crawl to the road end of field to try to flag down any of the few and far between vehicles that might pass. It was almost dark so they might have thought I was just waiving if they couldn't see the blood all over my arms.
Eventually my husband did come looking when he realized I had not returned to the barn and saw the cows all standing in one place looking to the cornfield. Panicked, he ran and was relieved to see me sitting, squalling my head off, in the cornfield. That is until he saw how beat up I was. He helped me sort of walk back to the barn fighting off the bull the entire way, then helped me into the house. I got a shower while he finished in the barn but I knew he would be too tired to take me to the ER so I told him to wait until the next morning after chores. I should have called an ambulance.
The next day I had double vision (turned out I was wearing his spare pair of glasses and was too dazed to realize it- mine were still in the pasture). I was completely black and blue on my right side with bumps and bruises, and to this day some of the lumps still have not subsided. My knees were swollen and purple (both of them) and I had pulled the muscles in my ribs on my left side and I had torn the left rotator cuff in my shoulder. I also have damage to my pelvis which took a chiropractor to discover. My hips were twisted and shoved up out of place causing severe pain when I sit for very long and make walking difficult at times, although I can stand far longer than I can sit. Since it took so long before I just said, "screw it, I'm going to the chiropractor anyway," after the regular docs said not to, the damage may be permanent. She has tried several times to put things back in place but they won't stay.
Needless to say, I still have nightmares and when even a yearling heifer comes straight at me all I see is that stupid bull and I let her have way. My husband doesn't understand that. He thinks I should be over it by now. Maybe so, but I'm not. I haven't felt much like writing so my blogs have suffered.
Update
Finally, last week Bob got sold. I can't believe my husband would not sell that dangerous animal knowing he had a taste for blood, and everyone who came by knew it. He menaced them from the fence and terrified potential buyers who were looking around.
We do have that first batch of heifers milking now and some more ready to breed. Bob was too big for them (he weighed in at over 2400 pounds - yep, it felt like getting hit by a train engine). I also have a ton of calves to feed on the bottle. We sold a few to test the market since last year they practically stole them from us so we ended up keeping about all of them. We are out of room. Due to the unfortunate fires in the lower Midwest (Texas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Kansas) that destroyed multiple herds of beef cattle the price of bull or steered calves is higher so I can sell them without so much financial pain.
Our beloved Chaos also died last year, almost exactly a year ago actually. We are still mourning her loss. Our foundling cat Sable is in the house and keeps us entertained. She's not a dog, but she has captured our hearts in her own right.
Less than two weeks after Chaos passed, my father also passed away from lung cancer. He only found out he had that instead of pneumonia 12 days before he died. I was unable to get there before he died. I was stuck in Miami after my flight was canceled when the pilot failed to show. Yes, I was rather angry to add to my mourning. I tried, but he had said many times he didn't want me to see him like that, until it got to the end and he changed his mind. If I had been able to get there when my flight was scheduled I would have seen him at least for a few hours. The airline and I are not on friendly terms.
Our female tabby (named Tabby) in the barn had a kitten who just would not open both eyes for the longest time. We named her 'Squint'. She's a goof ball. Tabby had another litter the other day. There are 5 of the little milkaholics. The guys, Whiskers and Zorro, are getting altered (read: neutered) in a couple of weeks. Yay! Unfortunately for some unknown reason the one who the most attached to me, 'Smokey' walked away last summer and never returned home. It's possible he got the cat flu. Whiskers and Zorro did and nearly died. Had they not come home when they did and let me nurse them back to health they would have died. The vet commended me on the save.
Well, that's about it. Until next time.
