St Patrick's Day Move

Last week, on St Patrick's Day, we vaccinated the cow herd before moving them out to the spring grazing pasture. My sister and I are both in our second year of AgriBusiness at college, so the cattle work at home is often planned around our weekends off. Empty nest syndrome exhibits itself a little differently in the agriculture industry, I suppose.

College really does open doors for you, though. My sister and I have been upgraded to the job of injecting the cows, while our dad pushes cows up the alley. So far, our mom hasn't been reassigned a duty in the management coup. I guess no one else wants to fill syringes, change needles, open gates, and get pulled in every direction by voices that shout over the noise of cattle even when the cattle aren't making noise. Not all heroes wear capes (or have that level of job security).

The new arrangement worked out well. Dad was occupied with handling the cows, taking great personal pride in bringing up groups of exactly seven cows, so he handed the reins fully over to me and my sister. He didn't hover, in other words. He did, however, give us string to tie the syringes to our wrists.

"I'm not saying you'll drop them," he assured us as he tightened the slip knots. "I've just always thought it would be good to tie them on; it's so easy to drop them by accident."

His blasé attitude wasn't fooling anyone. In forty years, he's never tied a syringe to his wrist.

The vaccinating went well, so higher education must be paying off. Those accounting classes seem to be collecting dust in the backs of our minds, though; we still have real issues with counting cows through a gate.

By four o'clock, we were ready for the move to the spring grazing pasture. As we trailed the herd of 350, it felt like we were heading into winter, rather than trying to wade our way out of it. The snow came down in heavy, wet flakes, but the cows trailed out nicely; a narrow path had been pushed for them to follow for the four-mile trek. Any cows that wandered off the path quickly changed their mind when they had to push through snow that came past their knees. It made for an easy move; we probably could have started them on the path, gone home for a coffee break, and come back a few hours later to shut the gates. Our most difficult task was keeping our horses from rolling, itchy as they were from the wet snow.

Needless to say, our "Spring grazing" is going to look a lot more like bale grazing for some time still. We're forced to continue with costly winter feeding as this weather drags on, and it doesn't look like the end is in sight yet. Forecasts for the rest of the month don't promise any melting; just more snow. It's a double hit, since we're not just feeding out bales; we're also not using that grass we saved for spring grazing.

The cows go out to their summer pastures around mid-April and start calving on the tenth of May. I know it's not just the spring-calving producers who are anxious for the snow to melt. The sooner cows can be out grazing, the lower the cost of production will be. And since I'm going home to help with calving over summer, I have a vested interest in warmer weather, too.