Ah spring, when a cow's fancy turns lightly to thoughts of grass -- which (as you know) is always greener on the other side of the fence.

Yesterday afternoon I noted little Curly was out. He apparently had managed to push the bottom portion of a section of cattle panel away and slipped through, and was happily cropping the grass by the edge of the driveway. (You can see the pushed-aside panel behind him.)


This wasn't an urgent situation, so after mentioning the First Escape of the Year to Don (who agreed it wasn't urgent), I straightened up and re-tied the cattle panel, then walked down to close the driveway gate.

This is when I noticed Shadow/Sparky (I can't tell the difference between these two ladies, they're identical), who had also pushed under the fence. She was further down the driveway, meaning she had been the ringleader for The Great Escape and Curly was merely following her example.


Needless to say, the rest of the herd was very interested in this development.


Later we rounded up both the recalcitrant critters and put them back in the woods, with the peanut gallery in attendance.


Shortly thereafter, I caught Dusty looking mournfully through a gate. "Hey, I want to escape too!"


Fear not, dear, in a few weeks the pasture will be green and lush, and you'll be in paradise. Hang in there.

We've had cows on the brain lately. (Actually, I suppose you can argue we always have cows on the brain.)

Part of the reason for this is a neighbor's cow had escaped and was happily wandering the road during a time the neighbors were away on an extended trip. This lady is massive -- I want to say she's an Angus but don't quote me on that -- and is not halter broken, so we were unable to hook her up to a lead rope and return her home. For a week she alternated between her home pasture and the rest of the neighborhood, visiting the other bovines over the fence and being social.


The nice part about living waaaaay off-road is a stray cow is not an emergency. Cowbella (yes, that's her name) was causing no harm and was in no danger of straying into a dangerous spot, so our neighbor said (via phone) not to worry about her and he'd take care of her when he got home. We made sure she had water, but otherwise left her alone except to close our driveway gate to keep her from teasing our bull.

In fact, her wanderings may have to do with being in heat, and our neighbor would like her in with the bull at some point, but that will wait. Meanwhile they got back from their trip and Cowbella is back where she belongs.

Next issue, little Lucy.

Right now the cows are on a neighbor's 20 acre parcel which we lease every year for extra grazing. However due to the unusually hot dry summer we've been having, no grass has regenerated and the grazing is pretty much gone. It's times like this that cows like to reach over fences (where, as you know, the grass is always greener) and this often leads to escaped beasties.

Sure enough, yesterday morning Don was driving to town and noticed a cow out, but was too far away to see who it was. He turned around for home, and we all went into Maximum High-Alert Cow-Roundup mode.

We weren't sure how many cows were on the wrong side of the fence, so the first thing I did was open the gate to our pasture and give our universal cattle call, named after our very first cow: "Bossy bossy bossy bossy BOSSY!!"

In moments, the herd came thundering. A good sign -- it meant not too many had escaped over the fence.



We counted as they poured through the gate: fourteen. This meant only one was where it shouldn't be.


So who was our stray? Ah, Lucy. No surprise there.


This little girl is a doll and one of my favorite heifers, but there's no question she's an escape artist. Thankfully "escapism" works both ways. She wasn't where she was supposed to be earlier, but when I gave the cattle call she "escaped" back inside the fence and followed the herd. Phew. (Next step: walk the fence line again to try and figure out where she got through.)

At any rate, she came docilely through the gate and joined everyone else.


However we couldn't keep the cows in the pasture -- there was nothing for them to eat, and we're also embarking on yet another heat wave (the pasture has no shade).


The obvious solution was to put the animals in the woods for a few days. Younger Daughter and I kept them corralled for a few minutes while Don went around and opened some gates and closed others.


They milled about restlessly, knowing what was up.


All except Matilda, who stood aside patiently.


My favorite cow is looking round as a tub, so let's hope she has a successful pregnancy. She's older and hasn't conceived in the last two years, but it looks like the breeding "took" this year. She's due in September, and I fully anticipate having to bottle-feed the baby at first, just as we did when Amy was born.


At last we were ready to spring the animals. I opened the gate and they poured through. Yeehaa!


They knew just where to go, and within two minutes, tops, they were in the woods eating what grass they could find.


This is Curly and Dina. They've become great friends and often hang around together.



The only complication with this new arrangement -- having the livestock in the woods -- was the bull. With all the ladies suddenly and enticingly outside the fence, we knew he stood an excellent chance of escaping (particularly as he was in the feedlot, not the much-stronger bull pen, where Don is building an addition to his shed).

And, to top things off, both Jet and Raven were in heat. Both ladies took the opportunity to stand by the feedlot fence and wave their bottoms seductively at Samson.

This was too much for our bully-boy, and within an hour he had forced his way through the cattle panel closing off the feedlot and was happily cavorting with the babes.




We weren't overly concerned. This is the season we like to breed anyway -- it means calves will be born in warmer weather next year, as opposed to the middle of winter -- so we just opened up the feedlot gate and let everyone mingle. There isn't a single cow or heifer we wouldn't mind Samson breeding, including little Lucy (she's small, but she's just barely old enough). This summer's heifer calves are far too young and haven't yet come into heat, so they won't be a temptation.

We'll let the bull cavort free for a couple of days before closing him back into the feedlot with a couple of animals (probably Lucy and her mom Sparky).

Little Ninja, though a steer, found Raven (in heat) irresistible. She didn't appreciate the attention from the young whippersnapper.



They went head-to-head for awhile, kicking up clouds of dust, until Raven convinced Ninja to leave her alone.


Victor immediately declared himself King of the Mountain of Compost. All hail the king.



Young cows are like goats -- they just can't resist a high spot.


There's not a lot of grazing in the woods, since we've had no rain this summer. We're going to have to accept the fact that we'll be feeding the livestock weeks earlier than we normally would. Such is life. It's a good thing we got 30 tons of hay in.

But meanwhile, all is peaceful.

Last week, after Don completed the fence around the pond, it was time to put the cows down in the pasture. Besides being the right time of year, part of the decision was because we need to reserve our remaining hay for the bull and cow remaining in the bull pen.

The animals milled around in the feed lot. They knew something was up.


When we were ready to open gates, everyone made it down to the pasture except three of the babies (Curly, Ninja, and Lucy) who weren't sure where to go.


When it came time to direct themselves toward the pasture gate, instead they popped through the neighbor's fence. Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to the world's most useless fence -- for cows. Our neighbor (who has horses) installed this several years ago in lieu of some ratty-looking field fence. These strands are elastic and are supposed to be electrified, and when the electricity is on, it works splendidly to keep horses where they're supposed to go.


But let me tell you, it does squat to keep cattle in -- particularly calves. Even when the power is on and the strands are electrified, they just pop through quick enough that it's only a minor shock. We've spent years dealing with cattle popping through these durn strands, after which we all have to round them up off our neighbor's property back onto our side.

So a couple weeks ago, Don and I drilled holes and inserted posts to install a supplemental fence on our side, designed to keep cattle in. The posts were in place but not the fencing material, so when we tried to move the calves, they just popped through the elasticized strands onto the neighbor's land and led us on a merry chase. Grrrr.

So we managed to get the calves back in the feed lot, then we stopped and stretched field fencing (hard to see in the below photo, but it's there).


Then we released the calves and once more herded them around to where the pasture gate was. What followed was absolutely hilarious and had us rolling on the ground laughing. The calves, thinking things were just the same as before, headed straight for the neighbor's fence... and literally bounced off the newly-installed field fencing. They tried several times -- "Hey, this worked a few minutes ago!" -- and got nowhere. So they gave up and went where we wanted them to go, namely into the pasture. Man, we should have done this years ago.

Soon everyone was happily grazing.


By the way, remember our herd matron Jet whose surprise calf provided her with a stay of execution (from the freezer)? Of the many excellent names you all suggested for the calf, we chose Victor (since he was born on Good Friday and he provided his mother a temporary victory over the freezer).

This was Victor's first time out of the bull pen. When he hit the field, he ran and ran and ran. (That's him on the left.)


Everyone appreciates a mineral block.


Yes, some fat and happy cows.

I've been watching Raven carefully for her impending birth. Yesterday morning she tried to make a dash for it -- jumping over the fence into the woods -- which isn't unusual for a cow who really wants to be alone to birth her baby. So we closed her into the barn, to her great annoyance.

This morning when I went out to feed, Raven was restless. She wandered all over the barn -- including getting in the way as I was pitchforking hay into the feed bins -- kept stamping her back feet, and was lashing her tail. All classic signs of very early labor.


I checked on her every fifteen or twenty minutes after that. Sure enough, around 10 am, she was in active labor, straining with an arched back.


She frequently laid down and rested for a few moments between contractions.


Notice her preoccupied, inward-facing expression. She's not paying attention to me -- she's paying attention to her body.


As strong contractions hit, she would heave over on her side, groaning and straining.


You can see the little front hooves making an appearance. They came and went a few times.



Finally the tip of the nose and mouth was visible.


With a mighty heave, Raven pushed out the head and forequarters.


Even while still half-born, the little calf was sneezing fluids from its nose and even shaking its head.



One last solid push, and the calf was out.


Within seconds, Raven was on her feet and licking.


I caught a glimpse of the genitals -- another boy! Heavens, that makes four little bull calves so far this spring.



He's a strong little guy, and started struggling to his feet within minutes. (Sorry for the blurry photos, it was kind of dim in the barn.)


The calf is chestnut-brown. For no particular reason I named him Curly.


It didn't take Curly long to figure out which end of mama was which, although of course he got a few false starts.


Raven is an experienced mama, calm and attentive.


Other critters came and went, peeking at the excitement through the feedbox slats and mooing in sympathy.


While Raven took a much-deserved rest, little knock-kneed Curly watches a chicken.


He's a strong nurser, this boy!



One thing's for certain -- after the harsh quasi-blizzard we had two days ago, today couldn't have been more glorious -- sunny and warm. Good birthing weather!

By evening everything was quiet and calm once again.


A quartet of little boys so far. Get ready for rowdiness!