Just in the Nick of Time

It was about 19 months ago that we borrowed a registered Jersey bull from a friend who lives about 10 minutes away from us.  The bull's name was Nick, and that dude was big and not halter broken.  We didn't know how things were going to work out, but he ended up being gentle and we got him to the house.  We unloaded him and he was able to breed LuLu.  Elsie did NOT get bred.  As it turned out, she had a cyst on her ovary and hopefully we got that fixed.  Rose Ethel did not get bred, either.  We think that she may be past her 'child-rearing' years.  She's old.  But you never know.  Abram laughed when he was told that Sarai would give him a son in his old age.

It's been almost a year since LuLu's bull calf, that we named Nicky, was born.  He was born at the hottest point of the year, during a drought.  LuLu was extremely stressed after calving and we thought that we were going to lose her.  We kept her alive by keeping a water sprinkler going that kept a small patch of bermuda grass growing and by feeding her sweet potato vines after she stopped eating.  We drenched her with molasses, too.  She pulled through and has raised a nice calf.  He's coming up on a year old on August 6th.  Here is Nick today:

Up to this point, he's been docile, but in our experience with previous Jersey bulls, that changes as they mature.  We're starting to notice that with Nick.  He uses his head as a weapon, threatening to come at you.  He'll also push the water troughs all over the barnyard.  He just likes hitting things with his big, meaty head.  We don't want one of those "things" he hits to be us, so we never turn our backs to him.

Our plans for him are what our plans have been for every Jersey bull calf born on our little farm - we'll eat him.  We'll give him another six or eight months to mature and, most importantly breed LuLu, Rosie, and Elsie and then we'll take him to the slaughterhouse.  We'll get all the meat, organs, bones, and tallow.  We use almost everything off of the animal.  It may seem cruel to some, but meat comes from somewhere, and that somewhere might as well be from our pasture where he's lived a good life, eating grass, with no antibiotics, hormones or medications.