I'm sorry if I sound like a "Debbie Downer", but I'm going to burst that happy, bubbly little thought for all.
First off, it's not a "baby cow". It's a calf. (And in this case, a bull calf since they decided to name it Leroy.) Get it straight you crazy terrible journalists.
Secondly, that farmer was doing more than just rescuing the retarded calf that decided NOT to follow it's mother to the warm straw bed. He was protecting his investment. The article went on to say how the farmer has 100 head or so of cattle calving out this spring, and that he just decided to jump into his hot tub, shitty coveralls and all, with his half frozen investment that he found left behind in a snowbank.
The fact that this story made news, tells me that it must have been a pretty slow day at the office for the journalist. Every day, especially in the spring months, cattle farmers are incredibly busy with calving season. On the terribly cold mornings, yes, you will probably find a calf or two that decided a cold snow bank was a better place to lay down than the straw spread out for it 10 feet away. EVERY cattleman has dealt with this issue. Some have warming huts, some bring the poor little beasts into their porches or their kitchens or their heated garages/shops. Some wrap their tender little ears with duct-tape, or they have special ear coverings for them. And some decide it's necessary to jump into a hot tub. Fully dressed. I don't know about you, but I can tell you right now that if I had a hot tub on the farm, I sure as heck would not jump in with disgusting coveralls/clothing that is covered in calf slime, straw, mud and cow manure. (I mean, can you imagine the floaties in there once you got out??!?!?! Not to mention it would completely ruin the filter???)
Thirdly, the comments that some people posted on this article....were, to say the least.....nothing short of ridiculous!!! Comments such as: "awwww, now there's a keeper!" or "that poor baby cow, now he's part of the family though" and "see, cows are just like dogs, they're loyal and they are part of the family. he can't sell the little guy now". Some people actually had the nerve (or the stupidity if you want me to be blunt) to say that "he'll never be sold now, he'll be too attached" and "not all cows are used for meat". You know what? I call bullshit on you poor, uniformed "city slickers". ALL cattle will be sold for meat some day. They might be yearlings, or they might be a tough, fourteen year old milk cows like ours were, but they all eventually end up on the butcher's block, or the dog-food factory. And if they don't, then I suppose they had the pleasure of dying peacefully, or painfully, on the farm/or out in the pasture.
I was involved in a Beef 4-H Club for (5 years?). One year, we had four calves to show at the local & district achievement days. We had 3 calves that were just picked randomly from the herd, and the fourth was "our baby". He was a long, lanky, (totally unsuitable 4-H material) steer, named Dopey. I still smile & tear up a bit thinking about this wonderful, docile beast. He was orphaned-his mother died shortly after his birth-and because we had milk cows in the barn that had just freshened, we took him in. He was fed from a special milk pail fitted with a rubber teat, that we hung from the corral planks. My sister, my brothers and I were his Momma. We actually had two calves that we played "Mom" to that summer, there was Dopey, and a sweet, tiny little heifer calf named Millie. They would see us coming from the house and would be there waiting at the fence for their pets and their milk. Anyway, we decided when it was time to pick our calves for the upcoming 4-H year, that we would halter-break Dopey as well. (I think my Dad just couldn't say no to our request?)
Dopey followed us around the barn yard all the time. We really didn't even need to put a rope on him, but he had to be treated the same as the rest of the 4-H steers. The first day we put a halter on them, and tied them to the corral posts, Dopey promptly flipped himself onto his back and laid down. I do believe we had to cut his halter rope so that he didn't strangle himself within the first few minutes of their "training". It took three more days before Dopey realized that it didn't pay for him to flip himself over. Then one day, he just decided that if he had to stand tied to a fence all day and be scratched every half an hour or so, and he got special attention from us, well, it probably wasn't so bad.
By the time our 4-H steers were ready for the achievement days, we could ride Dopey like a horse. At the district show & sale, he stole all the young kids' hearts. There was rarely a moment that a kid wasn't sitting beside or on him. He was so quiet, anyone could lead him or ride him. But if you know anything about 4-H (or cattle farming), at the end of the season, there's a sale. That's where all your hard work and your learning comes to a head in the nice, tidy, sometimes generous paycheck that you receive from the stockyards. Where we sold our steers, we all lined up with our steers, waiting to head into the ring and show off our animals to the best of our abilities. There are usually tears shed, because of course, you've just spent a LOT of time grooming these animals and training them to do as you bid, and they TRUST YOU. That was the kicker with Dopey. He wasn't just any animal. He had been our baby and he trusted us. And yes, we sold him. He was sold for meat, just like all the others. Someone out there got a terribly lean, skinny steak out of that well-mannered pet of ours. None of us could even lead him into the ring, but my youngest brother and I did. I remember not being able to look up at the buyers for fear they'd see the tears streaming down my face. Everyone, and I mean ALL of the kids that were a part of our 4-H club (and even some that weren't), shed tears when Dopey went into the ring. After the sale was over, we went to the back pens where the animals were kept once sold, and we just made sure that he was doing OK. I know that sounds absolutely cruel & heartless to go through all the trouble of raising him and then just sell him for meat *gasp*, but I know I needed that last good-bye. And so did he, because yes, he was a part of our family. And for me, that was the hardest part.
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| Dopey, littlest brother and I |
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| Dopey all shined up |
That's not only what 4-H is about but what farming is about. It's about the amount of time, the blood, the sweat, the TEARS, and the dedication that go into every single day of our lives. So you see, if we decided to get attached to every animal that decided to lay down in a snow bank after it's born, and then think we should probably keep it because it's "part of the family now", well, we probably wouldn't be very successful farmers. We do what's needed at that specific time, for the best of the animal and for what's best for our families.
So to all of those ignorant people that decided to voice their opinion about how that little baby cow was "a keeper" and "he won't be sent to market now"- you're right, of course he's a keeper. Until sale day. Then you can thank that farmer for jumping into-and probably ruining-his hot tub with a half frozen calf, raising and feeding that calf, along with 99 of it's peers. Then go ahead and thank the "baby cow" for growing into a nice, well-marbled steer a year from now so that you can eat your delicious steak supper.
C
(For someone who, as a kid, begged her Dad not to kill and eat the milk cow's enormous Holstein yearling calf named Bud, because if he did, I wouldn't eat it, I've had a few years experience and grown more tolerant to reality and practical cattle farming practices)
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