Guardians, egg count, feeding issues

Mama told me yesterday that Grandpa was thrilled by something he had seen on his morning walk. He was down by the big pond looking at the new growth of fresh grass uncovered by the brush hogging Mama had recently done, when he saw the big dogs chasing down a coyote. They chased it across the road onto the neighboring property, charged through the fence and kept going. That is a good thing.


The bad news is that they chase the deer away also, and for the most part that is not a bad thing since deer are accomplished destroyers of landscaping, gardens and desirable vegetation. I will not fault them that lapse –except during hunting season. Then, for that week or so, I will have to put them up when I go afield with the intent of hunting and possibly killing a big buck. In that instance I would strongly prefer a stationary target.

The rain held off and the sun eventually broke through the clouds yesterday allowing Grandpa to put up the hay he had cut the day before. There were only seven bales retrieved in the process, but it is fine hay none the less. It will work well for the intended application – feeding to the young calves as they begin to eat hay and grain.

Mama was back up to ten eggs yesterday. Chickens are interesting birds. When we allowed the two groups to mix, the egg count went down the next day – to six. I guess the other four layers were either too traumatized to lay or they were too busy traumatizing the new hens to take time to lay. Either way, pressing social events kept back the harvest. As soon as we separated them again, the count returned to the normal ten eggs per day. I have yet to understand the psychology involved in keeping the hens laying eggs, but the solutions seem straight forward enough. The crux of the matter; Mama is enjoying her little flock.

I got home yesterday just in time to help with the last of the feeding. We are having some little problems with the nipples we attach to the rather large bottles. They are all relatively new but there are certain ones that collapse quickly and depending on the calf you are feeding, can cause a problem.

We have one in particular that cannot get enough flow through any of the nipples we have. In his frustration he will very forcefully butt the bottle – and depending on how you are holding it while attempting to feed him, it can hurt when he gets really frustrated. Grandpa tried to switch him over to a bucket last night but I do not think it was a success. I think he will try again this morning and when he does succeed, it will save us a lot of jarring during feeding.

Butting is natural for the young calves and all of the little bulls do it. In some cases it is a gentle nudge. In other cases it is rather rough, but it is instinctual. If you have ever watched a calf nurse from its mother, you will see it butt the utter as it nurses. The difference is that in nature, if the butting gets too aggressive, the mother will kick the calf and not let it nurse any further. It soon gets the picture. We do not have that advantage – although I would like to figure out a way to practice such instruction.

If you rub the head of any of the calves you can feel the little nubs that are the growth plates for the horns they will eventually have. Right now they are tucked under soft folds of hide to protect the mamas from damage during the nursing months.

It is always amazing to see the cleverness of creation.