On the Moraine, Part XLI

By Jim Thompson
HCP columnist

Fun with cows. Over the years, as our herd grew, cows became quite a busy activity. We had a large pasture, and the way it was positioned, the cattle could actually not be seen, depending on where they were.  

There was the sugar maple grove to the east that I mentioned before. Next to that, going west, was a large ridge, which came down to a flat valley next to Franklin Branch. In two places, this extended across the creek – at the south end (out by state Route 506) and at the north end. It was at least 100 acres.
  
Winter feeding went like this. Take a tractor and trailer to the barn, load the trailer with baled hay and take it out to one of the areas of bottom land by the creek. We usually tried to move it around, especially when we had more cattle, to keep their hooves from tearing up the soft sod.

One summer, we moved the cattle to the 20-acre field at the front of the house, between the house and Route 506. While the cattle were there, one warm summer day, one of the cows that had calved just a few weeks earlier was carrying on, looking for her calf.  

We went looking for it and couldn’t find it. Dad got in one of the crazy moods he would get in once in a while and thought it was stolen. Nothing would do, but we all jumped in the car and went to Hillsboro to the Union Stockyards to see if it was there. No luck.  

Where else could it be? We drove to Washington Court House to see if it was at the stockyards there. No luck. Pulling up the lane after this insane afternoon, there stood the cow with her calf nursing, right in the corner closest to the lane. Sanity returned.

But there is more. Late one spring, a 2-year-old was trying to have her first calf. It was sort of a rain/sleet/snow day – really nasty.  

I had heard this cow bawling, and I went over to see what was going on. She was running around with her tail straight up in the air. Finally, she backed up to the creek bank, and it came out. It not only came out, but it also rolled down the bank into the creek.  

One moment, he is in his mother, the next minute he was in the creek, which was probably just above freezing. What a rude awakening! He was  floundering around, so I went in the creek to get him out. I got mother and calf safely united and went to the house.

When I walked in the kitchen, Mother was horrified.  

“What happened to you?”  

I was soaked in water and marinated with pieces of placenta. At my expense, this episode was talked about for years.

The final episode I’ll tell I have actually never decided if it was worse than the last one. We had a cow die of an apparent heart attack. We called the truck that comes to get such things. He showed up about supper time, and Dad told me to leave the table and help the driver find it and load it.  

That truck was somewhat greasy all over – outside, inside, everywhere. The cow was easy to find; it was near the lane. We pulled out in the pasture and backed up to the cow. It was a dump-style truck with a tarpaulin over the contents. He raised the bed and two sheep rolled out. He had a winch with a cable, which he put around the cow’s neck.  

He said, “Always pull animals by their neck; it is the strongest part, you can’t pull their heads off.”  

Good to know.  

After we got the cow in the truck, he had me help him grab the sheep by the legs and throw them back on the load. I told him I would walk back to the house; I did not want to get back in that truck.

Mother greeted me with, “You better finish your dinner.”

No thanks.

I admired our veterinarian, Dr. Benner from Bainbridge. I actually thought about being a veterinarian for a while. However, when I really thought about many of the things they have to do, I smartened up and passed up that opportunity.

Jim Thompson, formerly of Marshall, is a graduate of Hillsboro High School and the University of Cincinnati. He resides in Duluth, Ga. and is a columnist for The Highland County Press.

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