Why not just say "thanks"?

Nothing pisses me off faster than someone talking about how uncaring, cruel and money hungry livestock producers are. Considering that 99% of those who talk have never actually stepped foot on a farm, have only read a few propaganda pieces online, and assume that the meat fairy just arrives at the grocery store to restock the coolers; trying to reason with them is like trying to explain what the color orange sounds like. #fuckingimpossible

We live in a world where anything we ever wanted to know or learn about or explore is just a click away. With the technology comes a great responsibility, as anyone can buy a domain name, write a “report” and put it on the Internet for the feeble minded and uninformed to read, buy into and believe. It makes the truth awfully hard to find and to defend.

I think its no secret to any of my readers that I am a farm girl. Grew up on a farm, still live on one and am raising kids on the farm. When I read about people bashing livestock producers and questioning the way farmers care for their livestock, I see red. And then I laugh because I know not a single one of them has one iota of understanding as to what we, as farmers, actually do! I think its bullshit that someone with a full belly and a full mouth, talks shit about an industry they know nothing about.

 I know that we are just one small cattle farm and that our stories, trials and tribulations are not unique, but here’s just a small sample of what calving season looks like to the uninitiated.

Coming home from my daughter’s basketball game on Saturday morning, I was looking at the cows in the pasture to the south while my partner in crime was looking at the heifers penned to the north. We both had an "oh shit" moment. Hubs had zeroed in on a newborn calf who was lying by it’s mother in the north pen, while I had focused on the south pen, where some over zealous ladies had busted through the barbed wire and were gathered around the hay bales, silage bag and ground hay pile. We stopped the car at the end of the driveway. I hopped out to make sure the girls didn’t meander out to the road, while the hubby went to check on the newborn and Miss Jaci put on her overalls and Muck boots.

We spent the next few hours getting the cows back in, making sure baby and mama had fresh straw and a warm corner in the barn (remember it was 15 degrees out on Saturday, with the temperature dropping) and fixing fence.

That evening one of our A.I.’ed cows, who wasn’t due to calf for another three weeks decided it was time. She was checked and the calf couldn’t be reached, so the vet was called. The result? A twisted uterus and a dead calf—and as it typically goes, she was one of our best cows. Sure, the loss of income was noted (we don't just do this for the hell of it...our kids need shoes) but the loss of life was mourned.

The next morning, as we went to sort the girls into pens, by order of who was to calf next, a cow with fresh cleanings and after birth wandered past, with no calf in tow. The calf was found a few minutes later in a snow bank in not so good shape. She was quickly brought into the bathtub where we began to warm her up and dry her off. After a few minutes, she was loaded into the front seat of the truck and driven over to my brother’s to be put in the hotbox and have some electrolytes tubed straight into her belly. The news wasn’t great, as she was given maybe a 50/50 shot at surviving. We had done everything we could for Lil’ Red, whether or not she’d survive was up to her.

Leaving Red in the hotbox, the guys returned to the farm and attempted to catch Red’s mom and put her in the barn. The words bat shit crazy and fucking psycho were repeated several times over. Needless to say, getting within 20 yards of her, let alone getting her to accept her calf was going to be a shitshow. The guys went about their work and a few hours later, Red was recovering and ready to come home. Because Mama was still acting crazy, Red went into the porch and a bottle was mixed.

Three hours later, well past dark, the guys finally finished their chores and Red was moved to her new digs, the Man Cave basement, where she will remain until Mama decides to come around, or until the weather gets above single digits.

It was quite the weekend. And we only have 60 more head of cows yet to calf. But, we’re cruel and uncaring and money hungry, so it should be no big deal, right?

How about instead of questioning the practices and work ethic of people you know nothing about you just eat your cheeseburger with a smile and say, "Thank you?" #here'sashutthefuckupcake