Did We Get The Cows Back In?

posted on

August 18, 2021

Maybe......

Today I'm sharing about one of the craziest adventures I have ever had on the farm from the early days. 

Five years ago Mariah and I were doing lots of different things to try to keep the farm financially viable (stay in business :). Some of those things turned out great and others make great stories to chuckle about in the comfort of ones home after dinner with friends. 

This is one of those stories. 

At the time we had agreed to graze some cattle for a very nice older gentleman from out of state whom we had never met. 

He assured us these were good gentle cows, best he had every had. 

Haha lets just say there are different definitions of "good" and "gentle."

When I heard those words I thought of our own cattle. They came when they were called and a half dozen would nearly let you pet them on a whim. I knew what gentle cows were and so his description sounded like just the cattle we would like to care for. 

We were in for quite a shock....

When the cows arrived (Midnight on New Years Eve) they seemed a little jumpy but hey its dark and they have been on a trailer for hours; nevertheless I had a slightly worried feeling about these "gentle" cows.

The next day my worst fears were confirmed.

They were wild. They bolted at the site of humans, they ran everywhere they went in a panic, and they had some practice in the arcane cow art of jumping fences. 

But when you are young and broke you make do with what you have got. 

We gradually acquainted them with our presence, taught them (at least most of them)to  respect our portable fences and kinda got them to follow us (they would still run away if we walked towards them though). 

After several months, we had made a lot of progress and felt that this wild herd was finally ready for their first real test - working them in the corral. 

This would involve getting them up (no small task), sorting them, and finally giving identifying tags to their young calves. 

After much preparation, Mariah and I gathered a small band of our college friends and began one of the most memorable days on the farm ever. 

The initial roundup went far smoother than expected. 

Someone gently called the cows and they followed pretty well across a woody field and uphill along a long lane. The rest of us (myself included) gently followed the cows from behind coaxing them along. 

I had had fears of spooked cows jumping fences or stampeding somewhere but as the last few cows slowly made their way up the lane and into the corral I gave a great sigh of relief that things had gone so uneventfully well. 

As I watched up ahead the cows already in the corral were excitedly running around a small shed located in the center. Like a small racetrack the cows racked up laps as the stragglers slowly joined them through an open gate from the lane. 

And then things and the cows took a turn for the worse!

Out of the corner of my eye I watched as the the cows on the "race track" seemed to take a new turn - out a small exterior gate of the corral that opened to a gravel road and an open yard around a house. 

In shock I watched as over 100 mostly wild cows ran out the gate and my perfect day turned into a disaster.

Once outside the gate, a wide paradise lay before them.

A lush green yard, a small unfenced hay field and then a county road and across it several hundred acres of the neighbors unfenced row crop field planted in lush green cereal rye, and beyond that F highway and all the undoubtedly fascinating places that could lead a group of wild curious cows.  

We jumped the fence that made up the lane and desperately tried to stop the now running cows from making it to the county road and the field of rye beyond. 

Temporarily sidetracked by the lush lawn of the house we were stunningly able to round up about 80 of the cows and gently coax them back into the corral. 

They then promptly turned and ran back down the lane we had called them up through to the corral along with the stragglers who never made it to the corral - but at least they were on the farm!

I then turned my focus to the 20+ cows who had hit the county road before we could stop them. 

In dismay I saw the wildest 7 or so cows thunder down the road towards F highway (about a mile away). 

Desperately I had one of my friends jump in their car and drive a different route (well above the speed limit) to try to get to F highway before those wild cows did. 

Focussing on what I could still control I and a few friends began a slow encirclement of the remaining cows that were only a 100 yards down the road contentedly grazing the road ditches. 

Taking full advantage of the tall field of cereal rye, we half walked half crawled in a semi circle trying to gradually get behind the cows so we could coax them back up the road and towards the corral. 

I can distinctly remember the damp earth beneath me and the tickle of the rye stalks on my cheek as I gradually raised my head above the level of the rye to see exactly where the cows were. 

Grueling minutes passed as we moved slowly through the rye repeating the process of slowly spying on the cow's position. 

The thought (however inaccurate) that this must have been what the Native Americans and pioneers felt like as they stalked herds of buffalo passed through my mind more than once.

At last we were behind the cows and though startled to see us emerge from the tall grass, they amiable trotted back towards the corral. 

About this time I got a call from my friend on F highway who informed me that he had arrived before the cows and was now slowly following them back along the county road towards the corral (about a mile away).

We assumed new positions in the rye field (there was no fence along the county road so we didn't want these wild cows to take a side trip). 

After about 20 minutes the wild cows trotted into view and began to move along the road towards the coral. 

As we made our presence known they reacted much more violently and bolted towards the coral but by the mercy of the Lord they did not jump our short portable fence along the neighbors yard and instead thundered through a gate into the corral. 

Four hours after I was remarking how perfectly things were going, we had the cows once again back on our farm. 

We then tried to round up the cows and get them back to the coral (they had all run back down the lane and were now spread across one of our fields) so we could accomplish our actual goal for the day, and we were remarkable successful. 

Only one cow and her calf eluded our attempts to coax her back to the corral. 

After several tries she charged one of my friends and chased him up a tree. 

We didn't bother her any more after that.

My memory gets pretty fuzzy after that. Though I have been told that we did indeed work the cows, sort them and give I.D. tags to the calves. 

I do remember trying to get a rough count on the cows and realizing how difficult it is to count a bunch of wild cows that are running in circles. 

It was decided that we were pretty sure we had gotten all of them back in. 

Our count was right about at the number we were supposed to have sometimes 1 below sometimes 1 above. 

We canvassed the surrounding fields and roads and never heard of a "wild cow siting."

So did we get the cows back in?

Kinda.

They were at least back on the farm, but it was over a year before we were able to get that wild charging cow out of her field and into the corral. 

I learned lots of lessons that day. 

Foremost of them all - make sure your gates are shut :)

All those cows have been gone for years now but every once in a while after a hard day I think back on that experience, chuckle, and say a prayer of thanks. 

More from the blog

Paul Bunyan & Other Christmas Tree Adventures

About 10 days before Christmas it occurred to Mariah and I that if we were going to put up a tree we were kinda running out of time....It was already late in the evening after a long day and I was exhausted. Mariah pointed out that this could be our last opportunity to put it up before Christmas and that the boys would likely be pretty disappointed if we didn't. After all, it would be our first year ever in our marriage that we hadn't put up a real farm cut Christmas tree (though each and every one has been quite unique).Why would this be our last chance? Well because we are expecting our 5th child and the due date is Dec 23rd :) I begrudgingly acknowledged that she had a point. She wasn't in labor right now and I had no guarantee she wouldn't be tomorrow and if the baby came before the tree well that would pretty much guarantee - no tree. I believe I said said something along the lines of well that is a risk we will have to take. I'm exhausted and its dark and well (insert like 3-4 more very legitimate excuses here) all given really because it was cold and I didn't want to go back outside.....Well Mariah went about prepping supper and as I sat in our rocking chair generally enjoying not doing anything for the first time in 12 hours I began to remember all kinds of warm memories from Christmas time when I was a child, and a growing sense of conviction started to stir me into action. So with about as much Christmas spirit as the Grinch headed to Whoville I quietly donned my coat and slipped outside. Ephraim noticed my quiet exit and, throwing on boots and a coat, exuberantly headed out behind me completely unaware what we were doing or why and marched into the cold with a childlike joy. I admit that did raise my spirits, though for principles sake I resolved not to show it haha, but I did let Ephraim in on our mission. Particularly that my goal was to cut down something within walking distance of the house and that it would be dramatically smaller than last year.He said he knew just the tree and excitedly showed me a cedar tree he thought would be perfect. Well "tree" is a bit a a stretch. It was more like a cedar sapling and if it had more than four branches one must have been hiding behind it. Since I had a general sense that Mariah would not be thrilled by a tree that was not actually green (my husband senses have grown strong over the years), I politely told Ephraim we might scout around for more options. Walking to get my chainsaw, I noticed something green in the corral (that was a good start considering our last contender) and I walked over to inspect. My analysis went something like this: Close to the house - check. Somewhat green - check. Smaller than last year - check. Dimensions, and fatefully straightness were not factored into my selection equation. In an effort to speed up the selection process I asked for no input and Mariah's first hint that I had in fact taken her advice to get a tree was noticing I and Ephraim were not in the house as she heard chainsaw noises echoing just 50 yards out the North window. As I dragged my prize back to the house feeling rather pleased at the speed of this adventure, (especially compared to past years), Ephraim carried my chainsaw back to the truck like a soldier who had just received a medal of valor. Really his enthusiasm and zeal for doing pretty much anything is incredibly admirable and frequently brings smiles to our faces. As I brought my prize through the door, rather feeling like dad of the year considering I had reversed course and guaranteed the boys would get to experience the joy of decorating a "tree" again this year, Mariah graciously said it looked nice while suggesting we might need to trim a few branches. Owing to the fact its overall shape (which I hadn't bothered to analyze earlier) had been molded by growing through corral panels, I had to admit that a few selective trims might be in order to make its shape more conical and less like the tentacles of the "watcher" in the pool outside Moria in the Lord of the Rings. For reasons I may never understand, Mariah objected to the use of the chainsaw indoors and so the grinch headed back to Whoville  outside in the cold for the second unplanned trip that evening. Failing to find my handsaw in the carefully organized heap inside the open sided 1900s milk shed I generally refer to as a barn, I returned with my sawzaw and a wood blade. After some not so careful trimming the "tree" looked a little more conical and depsite the large gaps in its branches on two sides, all involved (perhaps moved by the spirit of the season) gave it their approval.The tree was then raised in its stand ( I noted at this point that the main branch was bent nearly 90 degrees at one point, and after a few inches of lateral growth resumed its somewhat straight approach skyward. This made the weight of the tree very offset in the tree stand and set the stage for the disasters to come. Just when I had got the box of ornaments, lights, and ropes (used to secure the tree to the wall to prevent falling - little hands can have a lot of fun with a tree) my phone rang. Breathless on the phone was none other than my Father in law. I needed to come immediately! There was a grass fire on our farm near his house! A fire haha, how? It had just rained and this time of year there is really not much to burn, but the only real reason I can give for it is that it's just us. I mean why shouldn't we get an unexpected call that there was an unexpected blaze miles from our house in the cold while were just getting ready to decorate the tree? Somehow it just fit us perfectly. I won't go into much detail here but thankfully the fire was not serious (a small grass fire in the fence line with the neighbor) and I and my father in law were able to put it out in about an hour (most of that time spent stomping out embers to prevent having to come back out in an hour to put out the same fire). Returning from my third unexpected trip outside in the cold, I entered our tranquil dwelling pretty much dead set on a shower and bed. Covered in soot, and generally smelling like a skunky ash tray (grass fires stink) I entered the house to see the tree had taken its first (note I said first) nosedive. The whole "come quick there's a fire adventure" had undermined my intention to immediately tie up the tree to the wall and apparently with a little help from our youngest son the tree had come tumbling down like it was felled by the axe of Paul Bunyan. It should be noted at this point that despite a lot of work I could never get the tree to really sit right or even kind of right in the tree stand again. The first tumble had made some irreparable changes to the structure of the tree and stand. Moved by the jumping exuberance of my children and rather haunted by the thought of what might come up tomorrow if we delayed decorating anymore, I aquiesced to their request to decorate it that very evening. And so, with the smell of fresh cut cedar and smoke wafting through the house, we decorated our tree and sat back to enjoy this year's special moment.  But the story doesn't end there. Oh no that was really just the beginning haha. You seen in all the excitement of decorating it had somehow slipped my mind that our vertically challenged tree, was unbalanced, precariously resting in a bent tree stand, and had never received its support string that would have secured it to the wall. Thankfully I remembered just in time - right after Mariah called me the next day (extremely happy and overflowing with seasonal joy) to inform me the tree had come tumbling down (if your counting this is fall number two). Thankfully all of the glass ornaments survived (somehow) and after a good deal of sweeping up the little stickers that fall off of real cedar trees (socked feet are also extremely effective at gathering these little anti tank fortifications), the tree was back up and tied to the wall. Unfortunately at this point the tree and its relationship to the tree stand had been further altered such that it was now clear it would not and could not stand on its own without the rope tied to the hook on the wall (I did use a festive white and blue striped thick rope though just so everything would match with traditional Christmas themes :)It is at this time that our fourth child and general angelic being, Levi, enters the story.  Isn't that a precious photo? You see Levi loves tractors. I mean absolutely loves them. His first words every morning for months when he wakes up has been "wheres actor?". By which he wants to be told and preferably shown the relationship of our blue farm tractor to his location in the house. He is also of an age where remembering to not do the things he is told not to do is quite difficult. And so for reasons that I am sure will make us chuckle in years to come but remain somewhat of a mystery at this point, a small tractor ornament was placed on the tree at eye level to Levi, on the side of the tree that already had quite a lean to it. At this point I need you to use your imagination and applying the picture above as inspiration, imagine Levi in a passing instant, reaching out towards that tractor in the tree, touching it, and like a drowning man grasping the hand drawing him from the waves - giving it just a little tug. Now imagine Paul Bunyans axe smiting the base of a tree with the final blow of his great axe and it falling, swift and sure, down to the ground. Now if that same tree was covered in lights and Christmas ornaments and narrowly missed the head of my youngest son - you have the right picture in your mind. Strike three, the tree was down. Levi was in tears, and somehow the charm of this year's tree had somehow left Mariah. It was at this point she suggested perhaps the tree had served its purpose for the season and could be taken down now before Christmas? Feeling that would just not be right I dismissed her concerns of a reoccurrence of this gravitational incident, righted the tree and with a few deft knots (I am a renowned knotsmith - just ask anyone) assured her the tree was secure. She dutifully redecorated it, and it stood there like a beacon of joy for at least another 23 hours....Then came the fateful moment - strike four. This time I need you to imagine the exact same situation as before except as the tree falls imagine my small angelic son staring up at the tree as it smokes him in the head on the way down. Needless to say there were many more Levi tears. The tree was once again righted but Mariah looked at me and my knot tying abilities with more skepticism, but the real damage done was to the tree. This fall had done some structural damage, the branches no longer pointed the right way and the lights and ornaments could not have been more artfully arranged had we had hurled them at the tree from our upstairs balcony. With a resigned sigh, I began taking down the tree 6 days before Christmas. It had stood as a beacon of light and a monument of my dedication to my progeny's childhood memories for four memorable days. 

{Watch} Look Out For That.....Cow!

Because we practice planned regenerative grazing on our farm we are moving cows, sheep, and chickens to fresh pasture nearly every day!Each animal has its own unique characteristics behaviors. For instance, the sheep tend to form a tight herd and give a little excited jump just as they go through the gate. The chickens flap their wings in excitement and the cattle well when they get really excited they do little happy charges and jump.Yep you read that right. The cows have some curious habits when they get really excited. I took a video of me moving the cows just the other day and they didn't disappoint!In fact at one point I had to make sure that one of them wasn't going to accidentally run into me ( I should add it has never happened as they are in incredible control of themselves even during their happy dances haha.  Unfortunately I got a phone call right as we got to the gate to go into the fresh pasture and it cut off my video....But the cows arrived to their fresh pasture and were quite thrilled!The cows are handy too as they will readily follow us across several fields if necessary to reach our final destination - just as long as we keep calling them that is. Haha some find it quite amusing what we trained our cows to come to. I hope you enjoyed hearing our top secret cow call in the video :)