De-Horning Little Besty

Back about 50 years ago growing up, my younger brother fashioned himself as a train conductor or something.  He had an affinity for trains.  One day my parents were notified that my brother had hopped on a Missouri Pacific Lines train heading south out of town, riding on it like a hobo.  Another time, he found a railroad flare and lit it.  He was waving it above his head and some of the molten substance dripped out of it and landed on his head.  That must have hurt something fierce as it burned his hair off.  He jumped in the car afterward and the scent of burning hair filled the car.  To this day, he still has a bald spot about the size of a nickel to remind him.

Tonight we'll show you someone else who got their head burned, but not by a railroad flare, and this time it was intentional.  It's time to de-horn Betsy.  We don't want horns on animals.  Those horns can be used as weapons, or they can cause them to get their heads stuck in the fence.  When a calf is between 2 and six weeks old, it's time to get it done.  When we separated LuLu from Betsy last night, we put the breaking halter on Betsy and told her that she wasn't going to like us much after tonight's events.

If you look in her hair right above where her ear is, you can see a tiny horn bud.  I took some clippers and clipped the hair away from both horn buds to fully expose them in order for me to see better to get the dehorning iron placed where it needed to be.

Here's the tool we use to get the job done.  It's called a dehorning iron and you plug it in until the end of it glows cherry red.

I held Betsy's head down securely while Tricia held her legs so she wouldn't kick.  Then we hold the hot iron on her horn and count the time.  You hold it for a period of 10-12 seconds, slightly rotating so that the entire area around the horn bud is burned.  Then I use the iron to burn the tip of the horn off.  Betsy was not happy.  The trick is doing this while holding a thrashing animal and not burning myself in the process!

What you are looking for is a copper-colored ring around the horn bud.  That's an indicator of success - that you've killed the roots of the horn and it won't grow.

This process is repeated on either side.  Then Betsy is left to rest.

She was glad to see us go.  This is not an enjoyable task for any of us involved, but it is necessary, and we reluctantly do it so that we don't have animals with horns.

They Say That Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Tonight we'll show you the evening routine.  All throughout the day LuLu and Betsy spend quality time together.  Betsy will drink her fill of rich, Jersey milk and then she'll go nap in the shade somewhere, shaking her ears to chase off pesky flies.  LuLu keeps a close eye on her girl as she grazes in the pasture.  As the sun begins baking down and the heat rises to around 96 degrees, the cows find shade under the live oak trees and rest.  They'll nap, conserving energy.  Lots of times, if the moon is bright, they find it is comfortable to graze at night.  

At around 8 pm, Tricia and I go out to the barn and open the gate.  It's time for the overnight separation.  You see, daytime milk is 100% for Betsy.  However, LuLu's nighttime milk is all ours.  We run LuLu and Betsy into the barn.  LuLu is greeted with a bucket of sweet feed and alfalfa in the trough.  This encourages her to get into the habit of coming in the barn.  We turn the fan on and Tricia waits with LuLu as she eats her supper.

Betsy is run into a stall on the side of the milking stalls to keep her separated from her momma.  They'll moo and fuss and carry-on, but they'll get to get back together in the morning after milking time.

Here's an overview of the separation operation.  I'm in the goat milking stall on the south side of the barn.  When LuLu is finished eating, we'll go ahead and run her out of the barn.  She can go chase down her supper with some water or do whatever she'd like.  We leave the gate to the barnyard open so that she can come at any time of the night and touch noses with Betsy through the gate.  We just don't want Betsy getting her milk.  We have to be considerate neighbors as we do have next door neighbors and sometimes the momma cow will bellow for her calf and it is so loud it could wake the neighborhood!

Elsie, our heifer, comes to check out what's going on.  There is nothing she'd like more than to get a bucket of sweet feed and alfalfa.  She's a pig.  The thing is, we have a little rule: While grass is growing in the pasture, the only way you'll get feed is if you give us a calf and are in milk.  Elsie, you are on the clock.

Tomorrow morning we'll milk LuLu out and then put her and Betsy back together.  Betsy will be so happy to get her share of the milk.

Little Frisky Betsy

It's around 8 pm Sunday evening and we're about to go separate Betsy from her Momma, LuLu. First, we let Betsy drink as much milk as she wants. She needs to fill her little belly, because overnight she'll be in the stall, while LuLu is out in the pasture. At 6 am we'll go out to milk LuLu. This will be our milk. Then we'll put them together and LuLu will have the opportunity to drink her momma's milk all day long. Then we'll do the same thing every single afternoon.  This is how we share the milk with the calf and both parties are happy!

So far you've only seen still shots of little Betsy, but tonight I have a home movie for you.  Click the red arrow below to see Betsy in all her glory.

Getting into A Good Routine

Life contains routines.  Since we are limited by a finite amount of time, it becomes important to become efficient in what you do.  It is true in a work setting, in personal projects, and even things on the farm.  We were already milking two goats twice a day.  Adding in milking LuLu once a day, as we share the milk with Betsy, her calf, and that's a lot of additional time to daily chores.

We milk LuLu in the late afternoon.  So far she hasn't gotten into the routine of coming to the barn to be milked.  But she will.  Right now we have to call her and walk way out into the pasture to get her and walk her to the barn.  Betsy will follow her on some days.  Most days, she's spirited and will run around and go exactly where you don't want her to go.  She hasn't figured out the concept of walking through an open gate yet!  It normally takes two people to get them both in the barn.  You may ask, why even bring Betsy into the barn at milking time?  It's important to have Betsy beside LuLu in the barn as LuLu will get nervous if her calf isn't beside her.  Furthermore, she won't drop her milk for us. 

In the past several afternoons, we haven't had to walk quite as far out in the pasture and Betsy has become more of a willing participant.  They're gonna get it.  It's a function of showing them that there is a reward for them doing what we want them to do.

The second routine is milking.  Even though a cow has been milked before, they have to get back into practice.  First thing, in the photo below, you see Betsy positioned by LuLu's head.  That way it comforts LuLu.  She's not worried about her calf.  She's a good momma.

Once we have LuLu in the milking stall and Betsy in place, we hobble one of LuLu's back legs.  This keeps her from kicking.  We pour the feed in the trough and start milking.  To hand-milk, it generally takes about 20 minutes.  This presents a problem, because LuLu is impatient.  If she finishes her supper, she backs up in the milking stall, making it hard to finish milking.

Over the past several evenings, LuLu has settled into a groove and stands still when she finishes eating.  It has to feel good and relieving to have her udders emptied from all the pressure of a full bag.  Routines are a part of life and as we go, we fine-tune the processes to see if we can make things better, more efficient and timely.  Some things we try and it doesn't work.  In that case, we revert back to the old routine.  But we're always looking for a better way.

I know you may be thinking that a better way would be to purchase a milking machine rather than milking by hand.  That day may come as we're getting older, but what we find is that any time you save by milking mechanically, you gobble up that time saved on the back-end in sterilizing the equipment.  For now, we'll stay with hand milking.

The Good Stuff

When a calf is born, the momma's udders are filled with colostrum.  Colostrum is truly the good stuff.  It is filled with antibodies and nutrients needed for growth.  It is so important that baby calves get this into their system.  It's God's elixir of beneficial goodness giving the baby a good start on life.  It gives energy and promotes health.

It is vital that the calf gets this.  We give the momma and the calf a little space while the calf figures out this new world that they are now inhabitants of.  Betsy stood up on spindly legs, wobbling this way and that and instincts took over.  She ambled toward LuLu and began looking for the teats on the udder.  She started at the wrong end and we tried to guide her.  When she almost had it, LuLu moved.  We opted to bring them both to the barn and give LuLu some sweet feed and alfalfa while we positioned Betsy on the right end and tipped a teat toward her mouth.  Betsy got after it with a sucking reflex.  First slow and then vigorous! 

The next morning we saw what we wanted to see - colostrum poop!  It is a bright orange-yellowish gooey poop.  That is evidence that Betsy got the good stuff in her.

We found more evidence on the ground and this signified that she got a good amount of it.  She no longer needed our urging or assistance, finding the teats on her own and sucking the udder down.

The udder looks big and swollen, but LuLu's milk hasn't come in until a few days later.  The first days, the milk supply comes in.  For right now, it's primarily colostrum.  That's what Betsy needs.  Before the colostrum supply dwindles as it's replaced with milk, we always milk out the colostrum after Betsy has enjoyed her fill.

We take the colostrum in that is strained through a filter and into a stainless steel bucket.  Betsy got hers.  Now we'll borrow a little from her for our use.

Colostrum is good for the calf, but it's good for humans, too.  It's filled with good stuff -immunoglobulins to help keep infections at bay.  So many benefits that it is marketed to athletes for a number of things like endurance and muscle growth and repair.  We've tried to drink it straight, but to be honest, I don't like the taste and the consistency is "oily" to me.  We pour it into ice cube trays and freeze it.

We'll add it to fruit smoothies with cinnamon and drink it down until we've exhausted our supply.  Sometimes we'll save some to bottle feed calves to make sure they get the good stuff so that they have a good start.

We'll Call Her Betsy

On Monday morning the alarm went off at 6 am, and I headed out to the barn to feed chickens, open the nesting boxes, feed and milk goats, and feed the cows.  I got everything done and was in at 6:30.  Tricia and I normally start our day in the sun room with a cup of coffee while we read the Bible.  We're almost all the way through the Psalms and will start on Proverbs in the next day or so.

After reading, I headed out to check on water and glanced out in the middle of the pasture.  What was I looking at?  Immediately, I knew.  I ran inside to tell Tricia, and then I went out to the pasture to check on the new arrival!

Fresh from the Farm

LuLu was standing by her little one.  She must've calved overnight as she had already eaten the placenta and the calf was licked clean.  She stood lowing for her calf, being a protective momma as we admired her little one.

LuLu

One of the first things I do is lift a leg and check to see what type of 'equipment' the calf is blessed with.  Here we go.  There is no male apparatus and four teats are clearly visible.  It's a girl!  We narrowed down the names to Opal and Betsy and settled on Betsy.  Since she was born pretty close to the Fourth of July, we were thinking it would be a fitting tribute to name her after Betsy Ross.  Perhaps we can put a stars and stripes bandanna around her neck?

A little Jersey heifer

Betsy got up on wobbly legs and plopped right down in the grass again.  You can tell that the grass is mashed down right where they are standing, evidencing where she went into labor last night.

Before the day warmed up, I picked up Betsy and carried her to the shade on the southern side of the pasture by the barn.  LuLu followed very closely behind, requiring repeated assurances from me that her baby was fine and I'd be giving her back shortly.

There was  whole welcoming committee in the shade.  Tricia was there, the roosters and hens, Elsie and even an appearance by Nicky, Betsy's daddy.

After a little bit, LuLu sat down in the shade by her little one.  It was a long night for sure.

Little Betsy lay low in the grass, napping all day.  She's a cute little thing, there's no denying that.

It's important that we get some of LuLu's colostrum in Betsy quickly, so we're about to get her up and interested in nursing.  We'll show you some of that tomorrow.