Plan B

Well there was a no go for Crystal’s milk yet again so Johnny and I went out and got some milk replacer, a teat and bottle. On the way to the stock supply store I had this niggly feeling inside, it’s too late and we are wasting our time and money on the milk powder. We bought it anyway and got home a short while later. We mixed up a bottle, and soaked the teat in hot water, so it doesn’t split and finally attached the teat to the bottle. I really wish I could write that he took to the milk bottle like a duck to water but I’m afraid he didn’t. After struggling to get him to stand still the bottle was rejected time and time again. He looked over longingly to the cows that were chomping on rich, sweet hay as if to say! “What’s the deal lady I want that stuff over there”!
So now I have a 20kg bag of milk replacer and nobody to drink it – Murphy’s Law isn’t it. I tried one more bottle but finished up getting more of the sticky stuff all over me that any down his throat. I guess he’s going to have to be fed solids to thrive instead. He’s getting a real early start and I hope there are no complications from this down the road. I think the biggest lesson here was that we shouldn’t have introduced Zulu to crystal the foster mom with Daisy around. She never really accepted him as her own. Daisy was a complete different story as my theory goes, there was no other calf for her as her own had been sold a few short days before Daisy arrived. Dexter’s are fantastic foster moms but I guess they have their limits too.

We bred Dexter cattle

We bred Dexter cattle. Dexter cattle are an interesting breed for their hardiness and the history as “survivor cows” and house cows”. They have docile temperaments, easy calving, forage ability and feed efficiently. They are a combination of both meat and milk cattle. About a year and a half ago we bought a bull for our three girls. We named him Felix. We had never heard about the Chondrodysplasia gene. We thought he was going for a good price and brought him home. He had a very big head and was rather stocky and beefy. I was concerned that he may be too short to cover the girls but he managed well and nine months later we had two beautiful baby calves. Because of his short build he easily got under fences and wires. He became painfully naughty escaping into the nearby fields filled with Angus heifers. Johnny and I decided at the time he was ready to put in the deep freeze and a week before his calves were born we said goodbye to him. Now that may be offensive to some but it must be understood that we are a hobby farm that raises our own beef. It’s the course of a cows life.
Recently I found that I have reason to believe Felix was a carrier. One of the calves had the “dwarfism” look and the other not. Now that I know better, it would explain the way Felix looked - his big head and extra short legs. I’ve still got a lot to learn about the gene and am not sure if its taboo or not. Some folk will not be concerned about it and others will start a witchhunt about it. I’m not too sure where about I fall into this category yet but am glad I realised what had happened to us. We have sold the two calves and the new owners know about the gene. They are not concerned about it but I feel a certain responsibility to them. I contacted them and offered to buy the calves back from them. They wouldn’t hear of it but I told them at any stage if they changed their mind the offer stands. There is a test one can do which I will be using in the future to clarify any ambiguity on this topic. I have attached an article from Glad hour Farm in the USA. Hopefully I can teach/warn a few newbies in the area about this topic and you won’t make the same mistake we did. The danger in this gene is extensive and on many levels. I’m disappointed in the farmer who sold Felix to us. He took us for a ride and we were ignorance of where we were going. This experience called farming never ceases to amaze me. It is trial and error.

This is an article published by Gladhour Farm situated in the USA. Recently I was confronted with this very dilemma and thought it worth posting so others could learn and not be led astray as we were.

What about Chondrodysplasia?
Chondrodysplasia is a genetic issue, not contagious, and not a disease. It is a kind of dwarfism present in the Dexter breed, just as many breeds have a form of dwarfism. Not all Dexters carry the gene for this kind of dwarfism, and there is a DNA test now available which makes it easier to know which animals carry it and which don't—although experienced breeders have been able to guesstimate for many years (with varying degrees of success) by looking at an animal. It is probably this visual method of trying to distinguish which gave rise to the terms "shortleg" and "longleg" Dexters. The body type of the "shortleg" Dexter is often "beefier" and shorter; chondrodysplasia carriers typically have this body type, but not all Dexters with this body type and short legs are chondrodysplasia carriers. This is the reason I try to call my cattle which carry this gene "carriers," or even better "chondro-carriers." Others call them "dwarfs," "shortlegs," or "affected." The Dexters which do not have the gene at all are called "non-carriers" of chondro (my preference), or "normal," or "longleg," or "homozygous normal" or "unaffected."

The "bulldog" calf, a non-viable fetus/newborn, results from the calf inheriting this chondrodysplasia gene from BOTH parents. The statistical probability of a calf getting the gene from a mating of two carrier parents should be 25%. If both parents are carriers, there should also be a 50% chance of getting a "carrier" calf, and a 25% chance of getting a non-carrier or homozygous normal calf. From a mating of carrier and non-carrier, the statistical probability is supposed to be 50% for a calf of either of those types (no chance for bulldog). From a mating of two non-carriers, the only result is a non-carrier.

If this is clear enough, the buyer should be able to choose his/her own goals. Many breeds have made a concerted effort to rid themselves of genetic anomalies. In the case of Dexters, a minor if not rare breed, breeders and associations must decide whether the gene pool will be more helped or hurt by efforts to do such at this time; and individual breeders may decide whether the chondro gene appears to have any value for survival or temperament or aesthetics or market or any number of things. Custodians of a rare breed must be especially careful not to burn bridges and to take a long view for the betterment of the breed, and even new breeders will do well to look beyond their pocketbooks to the survival of the breed as a whole. Good, conscientious breeders are of mixed opinion on this at this time.

A calf weaning ring

This contraption has a heap of spikes sticking out of it and its purpose is to stop a calf from drinking milk. It attaches to the nose and the idea is that as the calf approaches the udder the spikes stick into the udder and mom kicks out to chase away the calf, hence my idea saving the milk for Zulu. My concern is that she will associate all drinking with uncomfortable spikes and not let even Zulu drink. I guess time will tell. Zulu just doesn’t seem that interested in the milk anymore which worries me. He is little and need to drink milk. I have become desperate and am truly hoping that I can pick up Zulu’s taste for milk again. He needs the nutrients and not to mention the cream and I’m think Daisy has been gutsing all the milk. I went out to buy this ring Sunday afternoon. Got a brief on how to attach it and after Johnny wrestled her to the ground we quite easily attached it too her nose. I pulled Crystal into the milking unit and loaded her up with hay and grain but Zulu seems afraid to go near her. I wondered why. I eventually gave up trying to coax him in. This morning the same thing happened so now I’m concerned. Johnny says when he’s hungry enough he’ll drink but what if he has weaned himself already onto the grass. Can you unwean a calf???? I’m going to try again this afternoon and hopefully will be successful. Early this morning after we had tried to get a drink for Zulu I saw firsthand the effect of the ring and it was working like a charm. Sorry Daisy time to grow up Hun.

Second chances

Everybody deserves a second chance. Ozzie has been very unfortunate with his feet. Looking back over the way we bought him, cared for him and maintain him I am conscious of many mistakes, some mine, some not. When we set out looking for a horse for Michaela, we all had starry eyes. We didn’t care what breed it was, what sex it was or even how old it was. All we wanted was a horse to call our own. It has been this blind ignorance that has caused much growth in us as a family as we have been stretched in every area. Perhaps a stockhorse, a quarter horse or a welsh pony might have been a better choice but that wasn’t what was meant for us. We ended up with Ozzie, a beautiful white flea bitten (it’s a colour for those who are thinking differently) thoroughbred. We were told he was 17 hands and 12 years old and blindly we trusted and believed that. People lie! Four years down the lane now and much truth has been exposed. Ozzie’s teeth tell a different story and he is much older than claimed. Disappointed in humanity, we lovingly accepted the fact that Ozzie would be with us for the rest of his days and that it was going to be a shorter journey that we thought. Over the years Oz has had numerous issues with his feet. Thoroughbreds are very high maintenance horses to have. They are prone to many problems and with Oz we have walked blindly sometimes, at other times with costly vet bills and wrong advice from well-meaning people. I’ve trusted Farriers and been let down too by so called professionals in the field. Finally we have arrived in a good place with Oz. I have found an Equine Podiatrist who is very affordable and helpful. Ozzie’s feet are looking wonderful at last. I hold my breath while saying that and truly hope we are at the end of the road with the feet issues. Three more trims and he would have completely grown new hooves. Much stronger and healthier than ever before.
When I think back on the past 6 to 8 months and the dilemma I had deciding the fate of Ozzie, I sigh with relieve. He is happy and healthy and I can’t ask for more of that. He got a second chance at life.

Good ideas sometimes go bad

Yesterday I returned from a day out at the supermarkets. I casually started dinner and while standing at the stove I looked out the kitchen window and saw one of the cows racing up and down the laneway. Well I figured the only way to get her to follow me was to offer her some hay. I hopped onto the tractor and with the hay on the back of the trailer started making headway down to the back of the large paddock. With all the rain we have been having the paddocks are like swamps at the moment and I was not for one moment going down there even with gumboots on. As I got down to the bottommost part I saw it was Kiarra. I couldn’t for the life of me see where she had gotten through the fence as the laneway was shut. It was worse, she was in Iris’s yard, a fact I’m sure she was not cheerful about. I tried coxing her back to me but it was hopeless. She was agitated and not happy neither. I scrutinized the fence which has three strips on it for any breaks, lent over and put my hand on the one to see if it moves. Iris must have turned on the electric fence and I got a slight shock, enough to make me know that is why Kiara hasn’t come back. She was spooked from the fence I think. I tossed some hay over the fence in the hope it would calm her down for a bit and then pondered what to do. I was flustered, I needed to go call Johnny and see where he was at as I couldn’t handle this on my own. It was roughly the time he would be on his way home from work. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t panicking. All I could visualize was Kiara in the road and me running after her like a wild woman screaming my head off. I turned the tractor around and about that time things started to fall apart. Overlooking the fact that the trailer was on the back, I turned too sharp and the trailer jack knifed. Irritated I tried reversing to correct it and somehow managed to connect with the fence corner post. I nearly ripped it out I’m ashamed to say. After a few manoeuvre’s I’m managed to get myself out of the trouble I’d caused and with a sigh I started making my way back up to the house to call Johnny. On the way I hit a huge pond of water and the tractor kicked up mud all over me. To say I was annoyed was an understatement. When I got back to the house, I cleaned myself up wondering all the time where Kiara was and what she was up too. I phoned Johnny and he was only about ten minutes away. When he went to get her he had to walk her back up Iris’s yard into the road and down into our gate. She followed him like a puppy dog! What grain will do? Iris on the other hand shouted out a nasty retort as he went past. What a horrible mean natured lady she is. It’s not as if we intended this to happen. Animals are unpredictable. Only the other day somebody lost two cows and had put up a sign on the streetlight pole looking for them.

Cherry picking we did go.

One of the things I love doing is picking fruit and vegetables from our garden. We have two wild cherry trees in our back garden. One of the previous owners of Pine Haven planted them and we are enjoying the success of the trees now. While the goats were here I didn’t have much chance with them as they ate the cherries, the leaves even the bark aswell. The trees have revived since the goats are gone. While I was picking the cherries I thought about the goats and wondering how they were doing. A few months ago now I sold the two boys to two separate homes – both good homes and I knew they would be better off that what I could offer them. Some days I miss them and others – like today while I’m picking the juicy cherries, I don’t. I’m yet to learn there right names but as far as I know now they are wild cherries. The students and I picked a basket full of them and today I’m going to try and make some jam from them. After researching jam making I discovered that they are medium pectin fruit which probably means I must add pectin in for the jelly to set. As this is my first time I’m making some jam I don’t expect much. If it turns out decent, it will be a good surprise but I’ll never know unless I try –right.
Well that turned out a disaster I’m afraid. I started taking out the stones and leaving the flesh in a cast iron pot. One of the cherries I picked up had a juicy worm wriggling around in it. Disgusted I tossed it aside and peered over to look at the already stoned fruit. Low and behold there in the pot were more juicy wriggling worms. What a disappointment! I’m going to have to find a way of stopping the worms?????? I tossed the cherries over the fence to the chickens and with them flying over the fence so did my idea of making jam from them.

Yet another rescue – amazing!

Two days after the kookaburra rescue Michaela was on her way home from school and she found a turtle on the road. She did a wise thing to bring it home as I’m sure it would have been ridden over by a car had she not. He must have ambled a fair way as there are no close creeks around the site he was found. Perhaps it was all the rain we have been getting which upset him and perhaps washed him out of where ever he was. Turtles are found in the surrounding creeks and waterways so it’s not uncommon to see them around. We kept the turtle overnight in some water for observation and the next morning once I was satisfied he was not injured we released him back into the dam at the bottom of the large paddock. He would be safe there amongst the reeds and there was more than enough food in the dam for him. After he slid out the bucket, he stay around on the surface for a while eyeing me out and then I watched him disappear under the water seeing only the air bubbles which rose to the surface indicating he was there. So long Mr Turtle.

Rescue 101

A week ago we found a kookaburra waterlogged and exhausted in our back paddock. It had gone down for a drink of water in a large fish tank we have stored out there and clearly couldn’t get out. It was an amazing opportunity to see this bird up close as they are timid birds and you only get to see them from a distant. The children were delighted to see the bird who they only heard in the surrounding trees. I did wonder if they come from the kingfisher family as they have many similar traits although he reminds me of an owl too somewhat - very stately. Getting a close up on his “eating utensil” I understand clearly why he is a meat eater. His beak can inflict serious harm so I cautiously lifted him out and positioned him on top of a wooden post directly in the sun to dry out. I watched him and he watched me, he didn’t seem hurt anywhere else apart from being waterlogged and hopefully I was right. What a beautiful creature. His misfontune was our privilege and hence we got to see him so close. When I returned a few hours later he was gone. Sun dried and rested after his exhausting ordeal.

What this farmgirl wants

Sometimes I want a brand new house and I want to go on luxurious holidays. I want a manicured lawn and a kitchen to smile about. But then I realise I want something else more. I want space to grow, I want opportunities to keep many different animals, I want choices of new tiles and colours of paint, I want to make an imprint on my world and say this is us. Life never equals the fantasy and I think that’s the biggest lesson we can all learn. Take what is given to you in life and use it the best way you know how. Look for the rainbow in every storm and life will be worth living. After all, we only get one chance at this journey called life.

Hello! this was a surprise.

A funny thing happened to me yesterday. I had just collected the four Japanese Farmstay students and had stopped off at the shops for some groceries. On the way back to the parking spot, I stopped at the car, positioned the trolley so it didn’t run off and opened the driver’s door. As I opened the door I noticed a box of cigarettes in the console. The rest was the same as my car. Suddenly I’d realised I’d open the wrong car door. I didn’t recall the central locking sound that usually happens as you unlock which was further reason to know this was not the right car. The students and I got a surprise. I closed the door quickly and looked further up the row of cars parked. Sure enough there was another dune coloured SUV parked only two spaces up. Isn’t it a great country we live in when people feel safe enough to leave their car open as they run into the shops? The rightful owner must have been right behind and seen the whole thing happen to us as she pulled out of the parking lot ahead of us none too worried about what had just happened.

Bye bye friends,

The house has been filled with the laughter and sounds of children for the last week and a bit. Everybody has enjoyed the extra companionship including Spot and the chickens. Extra hands to walk the dog and collect eggs was a plus. The children savoured these chores as if they were presents. It was a delight to see the pleasure on their faces and to receive numerous requested daily to collect eggs. The farm appreciated it and so did I. Today however the appointed day arrived for our visitors to leave. The day’s weather matched our mood as it was overcast and drab. A lot of packing happened and the rain we prayed away, stayed away. Waving goodbye was a mix of emotions, sadness to say goodbye but excited for them as they start their new life in Australia. There are many wonderful days waiting ahead of them. New horizons and challenges in days to come. I feel much like a momma hen in fact – my chicks just left the nest. Go well, go safe my dearest friends and may your journey be a good one.

Rain, rain, rain and more rain

Okay so having water on a farm is very necessary. It becomes even more necessary when you have rain water tanks and no council water. Don't get me wrong, as I'm very grateful we have not been affected by any flooding this summer season and that we have had lots of rain for the paddocks to grow but presently the ground is so satuarated its becomming a irratation. We can't seem to cut the grass as the ride on doesn't cope well with the mushy ground. The septic tank is taking serious strain from all the water in the ground too. The animals except the ducks I suppose are not very happy standing in muddy swampy paddocks and this lady is way past having to wear gumboots to get anywhere on the farm. Humph, no more rain for a bit please!

I would like to ask any readers to please drop by and introduce yourself in the comment section. I would love to meet you all and at the moment have no idea who is reading my "ramblings".

Duck business

Buttercup my female duck and her duckling are doing really well. Latterly he’s been losing his baby feathers and is looking more grown up than ever. This duckling is the first successful duck hatchling here on Pine Haven as Daisy the previous duck who was taken by a fox didn’t get to brood completely over her eggs before she met her untimely demise. We still don’t know whether the duckling is male or female as I’m unable to tell until he grows the one curly feather on his back indicating he is a male. If that feather never happens then “it” becomes a female. This takes a while so the duckling will remain nameless until such time. Each morning I open up their enclosure and Buttercup followed by her duckling eagerly make their way down to the dam for the day. Donald however is a strange cup of tea. I mean really have you ever heard about a duck that would rather spend the day with a group of chickens than enjoying a big dam with lots of water. Ducks love water right? Well I must have the exception to that rule. Donald will not put his webbed foot out of the chicken run. He will gladly watch Buttercup and her duckling waddle down to the bottom dam and he seems happy enough to stay with the chickens. I really don’t know the reason for this as I’ve always just thought that Ducks and water are a marriage made in heaven. My animals show me new things all the time.

Sailing fun

Everybody’s got a something in their garden just lying about not being used. In our garden there is a tinny, the smallest of boats. It’s got a bit of history that’s worth sharing about. It was bought the first summer we moved into Pine Haven for a mere $200 (a bargain in my sight). It was a novelty that summer. Then the oars got lost one by one (probably sunk to the bottom of the dam). After that summer it became a grass skiing device behind the ride on for a while. Jonathan, my son and his mates would spend hours of fun in it. This of course did nothing for the maintenance of the boat and it developed a few holes in the bottom. After this season of grass skiing fun, it drifting into the background and the appeal was lost yet again. A year or so later one of our visitors saw it and asked to loan it for an afternoon pool party. It entertained those kids at the party well and they had a ball with it. It came home with duct tape all over the bottom section. It was forgotten again as it lay in the top dam rising and falling with the level of the dam, slightly submerged into the water, neglected once again. This past week the boat was restored to life. The holes fixed and a big cork plug found and voila the boat was back in business. We have guests staying over at the farm for a while so Pine Haven is filled with the beautiful laughter of small children once again. Shrieks and yells as the boat, still missing its oars, was pulled by the men from one side of the dam to the other on a thick rope. The boat has a story to tell. It’s not flashy or expensive. It’s not big and spacious. It’s not even completely dry when you float it but this weekend it made many faces smile and laugh again. It brought pleasure and joy into that day. She is priceless. I’m so pleased to have that “boat”.

Identify please?

Can anyone tell me what snake this is. A deadly brown or just a tree snake? A few days ago Spot was barking hysterically and I took note of the high pitch of his bark. As I investigated the noise, I discovered that he was barking at this snake coiled up under the the very unused glass table on the patio. It disappeared before I could do anything but I managed to get this photo. We have seen a few of these snakes around over the years. The eyes are small and black which gives them an ominous look. It looked like it had just had a feed - I wonder what it ate?

Our story so far

Another scrapbook by Smilebox

Two steps forward and one step back.

Yesterday I was startled to find Daisy back drinking off Crystal. So we rushed down to separate them yet again. So much for the euphoria of returning the herd to its former shape. I honestly thought after a week and a half she would be weaned - I must have been wrong. While this just proves my inexperience in this field - it’s been another lesson learnt. Although this is disappointing it’s not all bad news. Crystal is finally standing still outside of the milking unit for Zulu to drink in short bursts. Zulu the baby calf doesn’t seem to be too anxious about the separation from the rest of the herd as long as he is around Crystal. He follows her persistently all day and is becoming more determined with her.

A tale of a veggie patch

What is in a vegetable garden?
Well I don’t know what’s it your vegetable garden but this is what is in mine. This will be the third veggie patch I’ve set about building since moving into Pine Haven. From the first one to this one, I have learnt many lessons, mostly from experience of failed crops. I’ve learnt about plenty of bug like the cabbage moth, caterpillar, grasshoppers and little orange lady bugs and last but not least are the army of ants. Striving for an organic garden I’m reluctant to use pesticides so have decided to try a homemade solution of crushed garlic, oil and some dishwashing liquid. So getting back to the veggie patch this is what happens from scratch for me. In a boxed off area with a little soil and lots of weeds which were the first to go. I added two to three bags of organic soil purchased before hand from the local Bunning’s, added to that a bag of homemade chicken and cow manure and some left over shavings from the bottom of the ducks enclosure. I wiped my brow a number of times for this job, stood up with my hands on my hips to assess the progress and found I had an audience of animals on the other side of the fence. Finally the labour of soil preparation was done. Gardening is like painting. The prep work which doesn’t get much fame is the foundation to success. Next came the seasol nutrients boost, and then finally the seedlings of beans, peas, snow peas, onions and garlic. I added a nectarine tree to the orchard aswell. Once this part was done it was time to close up. I laid a row of newspaper down to stifle the weeds and then on top I put a thick layer of sugarcane mulch. Now while I don’t profess to be an expert vegetable grower this was my last attempt at it. After the final assessment I packed away my tools and wandered back indoors with thoughts of a much more successful garden with this one. As for the other plot to the side of the new garden, I’m still picking capsicums and cherry tomatoes. To the left of the new garden my passionfruit vine is being trained up some stakes and running along a wire. The passionfruit vine has been the hero of the garden out right and I haven’t even had fruit yet. A number of times it has been trampled, eaten, threatened and overgrown by surrounding weeds but each time it has come back and now that the framework is up there will be no stopping it. The curry leaf tree is thriving and so are the chillies in the bath tub at the bottom end of the garden. The eggplants are finished sadly but we harvested many. The chillies took a long time to start but are doing famously now. I think I’m going to have to make some chilli paste to preserve them. The strawberries started off amazingly but have been the target of ants latterly. The corn, the carrots, the cucumbers and lettuce were all failures and I’m yet to learn why. I guess you win some you lose some.

Progress

Mother and calf have moved back in with the herd. I watched from a distant to see what Daisy, the previously fed Jersey calf would do once Crystal walked past her. It had been a week and a half now since she was weaned and Crystal and Zulu have been together. Daisy didn't seem to be too fazed and apart from a few sniffs here and there to the calf, they all seemed to integrate nicely after the separation. I realise I'm holding my breath suddenly but let out a sigh once Daisy doesn't go near Crystals udder. I think that Crystal’s milk is safe for Zulu and it is important to get them all back together as soon as possible. Zulu is not drinking from Crystal out of the milking unit so although I have changed the feeds from three to twice a day now, I still need to round them up morning and night. The calf is nibbling grass now and I'm encouraged to see how that happened almost immediately after they all regrouped. I'm still hoping that Crystals will become more relaxed with him and that Zulu will try harder. He gives up so soon. Perhaps it’s because he is still very young or maybe not. As I stand on the verandah looking out across the paddocks, watching them walk in a herd, it’s a sense of achievement I feel. The cattle are doing great and the addition has been accepted.

The beginning

What a word that is! Beginning shouts new and fresh, another adventure. The beginnings of my days start very early in true farming style latterly. I don't mind one bit. Crystal, our momma cow sings out to me for her small bucket of grain. It has only been a little over a week that I have been feeding her grain while she feeds the calf but yet she knows its coming. She waits at the gate willing me closer with the grain in my hand. As I make my way to the barn she smells the grain at the same time she sees it. I must be fast or her tongue grabs the grain. She follows obediently and the baby calf makes his way next. We sit in the barn the three of us, Crystal eating her grain, Zulu drinking his milk and me observing the wonderful process happening before my eyes. He knows instinctively what to do. It may not be his birth mother but the milk is the same. Cautiously at first but then boldly he moves in. He is comforted by the sucking motion and his tail swings from side to side as he drinks. What a privilege to see this every morning. I am full of gratitude today.

Zulu arrives

I set off on the twenty minute journey to see the available two calves. One was a waygu steer and another was a Limousin cross. The thought of them both coming from a dairy worried me a bit as we had learnt allot from the last two steers we raised. Dairy cows have a bony structure and take that much longer to get to the desired weight. A beef calf could be raised to the correct weight in two and half years but a dairy calf could take three and half years for the same weight. Armed with my history I thought I was confident enough to recognise the difference. A winding dirt road took me to the dairy farm which was run by Marlin and Barb. Two very strong ladies I gather. They handled the dairy and sale side of the farm. I looked at the two calves and was undecided. I was surrounded by pigs, ducks, chickens, goats and calves of all sizes and colours. It was very overwhelming. The following day I returned with Johnny and we decided on the little one of the two. His umbilical cord was very wet so he was still very new, possibly a day or two old only. He was treated with all the necessary medicines and tagged. We attended to the paperwork soon after he was put in the back of the trailer. There was no turning back now. Money was exchanged and papers signed. We were now the proud new owners of a wagyu calf.

Once upon a misty morning

A few mornings ago I woke up to the lovely surprise of fog which had rolled in overnight. My internal thermometer warned me of a very hot day to come. As I waved goodbye to the boys I couldn't help my excitement that was rising inside of me. As I closed the front door, I thought about another opportunity door that had opened for us overnight. I've been looking for a steer on the internet for the longest time but with not much success. Finally I had found what I was looking for. A contact, just about twenty minutes from the farm. Johnny and I had decided that I would go and look at the calf and if we were happy he would go with the next day to collect it. Was I ready for this again? I thought so. Of late my passion had returned. I had my old energy back and could tackle all the work that is entailed with raising a bottle fed calf. As I sat on the porch listening to nature’s sounds and drinking my coffee the house was quiet inside. This old farmyard was about to embrace new life again.