MooBlog

It’s that time of year – time to bring our efforts on the beef growing side of Legacy Herefords to fruition and see what we’ve got. It’s the hardest time for me: I’m a big softie, and as I tell everyone I meet, “I’m the loving, feeding, babying division. Not the processing division.” But, we’re halfway through, I’m making it (barely), and the beef promises to be tasty as usual.

Also as usual, I shed a few tears this morning for the two that were processed today. I’m not really big into being sad, but I think it’s good to feel that loss – it means I’m connected to these critters, no matter where they’re headed. I have friends who think I’m crazy not to put some distance between me and the animals destined for beef, but our goal is to raise calm, healthy, happy animals and the best way I can see to do that is give them a life where they never fear a human. And to help them learn to never fear us – and even seek us out for scratches – we have to stay open to them, even if it means we feel the loss at harvest.

We’re only saving ourselves by keeping our distance, and I wonder if we’re even doing that – if we want to appreciate where our food comes from, and how it’s raised, we must connect with it, and know it, in all its lifecycles. And so at this season of our harvest, I thank every animal for its sacrifice – it puts food on our plate and those of others, and helps feed our little herd – and shed a few tears, and look forward to spring and new calves.

As expected, the time has flown since I last posted – summer and fall were so busy this year!

Our July picnic celebrating what would’ve been my grandfather Howard’s 101st birthday and the 1st official birthday of Legacy was a great success. The turnout was tremendous (though I’m hoping more of you will come next year!), and people had a great opportunity to connect with the Legacy girls. Miracle and Patches, the two bottle babies, joined Tuck and her 2010 calf, and Trainwreck for quality facetime with visitors. We had guest appearances (right through the picnic) by Wanda and some of the calves. A wonderful time was had by all humans and bovines!

However, today’s post is a Miracle update. She continues to struggle, and has her good days and bad. Yesterday was one of the bad days. We’re beginning to think she’s not going to outgrow the seizures.

But she made it to 6 months on November 11th, and is still going strong; while the seizures – or whatever they are – continue and can be alarming, we’re starting to think about her future. Where would she be happy and safe? It seems unlikely she’d get along well in our big group – she’s just too vulnerable when she’s having one of her episodes.

So we’re now looking for a good home for her, and looking for suggestions. She doesn’t need any special care or feed, just an understanding human to recognize she’s not about to kick the bucket every time she’s “sideways.” So if you have any good ideas (or even silly ones), let us know! Otherwise I need to start my “save Miracle” campaign at home, which is probably going to be hampered by the fact that I’ve already “saved” one disaster (Trainwreck) and it’s going to start looking like a collection of disasters to Erick pretty soon!

I am asked regularly if our beef is organic. The answer is no. And, if asked whether we will be going organic, the answer is absolutely not. It is a simple answer to a complicated question.

The National Organic Program standards are, in many ways, counterproductive to the things consumers believe they’re seeking when they ask for an organic product. A multitude of “non-organic” materials and ingredients (245 to be exact) are allowed in certified organic products – there is an excellent article on the subject here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/07/02/AR2009070203365.html. Despite this allowance for all kinds of additives, chemical and otherwise, to many organic foods, standards for livestock production prohibit even medical use of antibiotics. I could natter on about the organic program standards all day wearing my policy consultant hat, but suffice to say, I think there is a place in the market for organics; I think the small to mid-size farmers who are “organic in spirit” know better how organics should work than the industry-lobbied federal government; I think organic food will not feed the world’s hungry; I think we can’t lose sight of the fact that food can be healthy, sustainably grown, and humanely raised without being organic; and I think it’s more important that people know the process by which their food is grown than whether or not it wears a USDA-endorsed “organic” sticker.

In the case of Legacy Herefords, we raise natural beef, and do it pretty much by hand. Our animals live on pasture their whole lives. They never see a feedlot. They are never tortured and they do not suffer. They are loved and cared for every day of their lives with us. And it is for those reasons we will never go organic. Given peoples’ vision of the imagined lives of organically produced livestock, it can be difficult to get the message across about why we have chosen a different path. Our attitude about, and treatment of, our animals conjures in most potential beef buyers an idyllic life raising pastured cows who are happy, healthy, and of course, organic.

However, I’ve now discovered my one word answer in response to that perennial question. It is no longer no. It is now: “Miracle.”

For those of you who’ve not been following her story on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Bellingham-WA/Legacy-Herefords/271541357175), Miracle is our bottle baby, born late on May 11th or early May 12th. By the time I got out to do herd check, her momma had recognized what perhaps I was too stubborn to see: Miracle was a goner. However, Helen is a wonderful mother, so she showed me where her baby was, and stayed with me for awhile though she clearly needed to eat and drink.

Miracle was obviously significantly brain damaged, probably from lack of oxygen during birth, but we will never know for certain. She was in severe shock, and had never stood or gotten her first critical milk, which provides the antibodies a newborn needs. I thought she would die in that first hour, while I was holding her and waiting for help. I had no way to ease her suffering, no way to put her down; all I could do was snug her up in my lap and wait.

Of course, the first thing we did was to call the vet. It was a bit of a fiasco, but we got some colostrum replacer (the first milk) down her, got her some fluids, and gave her some antibiotics, including painkiller. She did not show improvement. That night, certain we were going to lose her, Erick and I gave her a pretty hefty overdose of painkiller, to push her over the edge and to ease any discomfort she might be feeling. When we left, she was, essentially, gone – out of pain, with no blink reflex or response.

Bizarrely, the next morning, she was still alive, and in fact, seemed marginally improved, holding her head normally, and there was some sign that she’d stood. We were still certain she wasn’t going to survive, but we didn’t have a gun with us or any other way to put her down, and clearly the painkiller overdose hadn’t done the trick, so after arguing about it for a bit, we loaded her in the back of the truck and hauled her to the vet. We knew we would get some resolution one way or the other.

She still couldn’t stand, but she fought Dr. Schwab tooth and nail as they got her ready to go in the “calf box” for the next 24 hours. The put in an IV, so they could administer fluid and antibiotics, and we headed out. And held our breath for the rest of the day. I’ve never been so happy to hear from the vet as I was at 8.06 the next morning, when Dr. Schwab called to say “get this calf out of here! She’s tearing the clinic apart!”

While Miracle was feisty, she wasn’t out of the woods – not even near the edge. The next few days were a rollercoaster, and though she wasn’t receiving antibiotics, she did get a couple shots of low-dose painkiller and feeding was a nightmare because we had to tube feed her, which she hated. She slid backwards far enough on at least two occasions that we were sure she’d be dead next time we saw her. On one day, she had what we believe were seizures. On another, she couldn’t get her legs to work. On yet another, she couldn’t figure out how to work her joints so she could lay down or walk – they were simply locked, and I had to break the lock to get her down. And finally, she began showing neurological symptoms again when we were trying to transition to a new milk replacer.

At no point during this period did she quit fighting – you can tell when cows give up, and most cows aren’t much for fighting to survive. Gloria, our first miracle cow (her story is here: http://www.legacyherefords.com/Gloria.html) was a huge struggle for the first two weeks we had her because she had no fight in her – we had to drag her back to the land of the living every inch of the way, and she had no medical problems like Miracle, even though she’d been severely starved; she simply didn’t feel like living. Miracle’s a different kind of cow. She has never given up trying. Her legs didn’t work, she’d just get mad (cows are funny when they’re mad), stomp whatever little hoof happened to be working, chew on one of the legs that wasn’t, and try walking again.

Miracle is truly a miracle. There is no medical reason she should have survived. The vets can’t explain it, and, when we were dealing with the seizures, said “we don’t know what to tell you about seizures – we’ve never seen a calf with this level of damage live this long.” Not only is Miracle alive, she is now completely normal, other than her obsession with people.

While I’d like to give all the credit to Miracle and her monster will to survive, I have to give a big bushel of it to our vets. Dr. Johnson and Dr. Schwab did a fantastic job, and their application of the right medicine at the right time is the only reason she’s here – she couldn’t have done it on her own, and all the love in the world wouldn’t have saved her without veterinary expertise, antibiotics, vitamin shots, and IV fluids.

And if we were an organic operation, Miracle would never have had her chance to show us what she can do and that she can live and recover and thrive. Antibiotics, even the bare essential medicinal ones, are prohibited for organic animals. So, when you ask me if we’re producing organic beef, my answer will always be Miracle – I would rather be “non-organic” forever and have Miracle in my life than be “organic” and without that indomitable little spirit.

1 lb. flank steak, thin sliced across the grain
1 T vegetable oil
1 t ground coriander
Coarse salt
Ground pepper
2 lbs broccoli, cut into florets
3 T fresh lime juice
1/3 c chunky peanut butter
2 T light brown sugar
1 T soy sauce
¼ c water
16 wooden skewers

1. Heat broiler, with rack set 4 inches from heat. Soak skewers for 30 minutes in cool water. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with foil. On sheet, toss steak with oil and coriander; season with salt and pepper. Dividing evenly, thread beef strips onto each of sixteen 6-inch skewers. Arrange on sheet, set aside.
2. Fill a large saucepan with 1 inch water; fit with steamer basket. Bring to a boil over high heat. Add broccoli; cover and steam until crisp-tender, 6 to 8 minutes. Toss with 1 T lime juice, and season with salt and pepper.
3. Broil skewers, without turning, 3 to 5 minutes for medium doneness. In a small bowl, whisk together peanut butter, sugar, soy sauce, 2 T lime juice, and water to make peanut sauce. Serve sauce with broccoli and beef skewers.

(thanks to “Everyday Food,” April 2008, for this yummy late spring goody…..time to fire up the grill!)

I know it’s spring when our calves are on the ground. We just welcomed two new calves, a heifer (3/28/10) and a bull (3/29/10). They’re about 6 weeks or so ahead of the rest of our calves, and therefore nice early presents from our neighbor’s Angus bull. Of course, they’re not exactly what we want (red&white being our favorite color combo), but what are we going to do, put them back?

Now, I know, nearly everyone in the cattle business breeds for calving in January, but I don’t want to be out there wrangling calves in the bitter cold, rain, snow, sleet, and whatever other horrible weather happens to occur in January, and I can’t imagine my girls do either. So, we do it a little later, and I figure everyone’s a little happier – even though I have to winter over those calves. But, that means we get to wean a little later, they start eating me out of house and home a little later, and I get to have little ones at the “little farm” near our home all winter. And it means all the beef our customers enjoy is handled, loved, and fed by us from start to finish.

Anyway, here are pictures of our newest arrivals. I know we’re not supposed to name them, but how could we not?

Sunshine is Tiki’s second calf (and second black baldy), and she was born in a rainstorm – Tiki seems to like stormy days and completely ignored all the beautiful sunny days last week – but the sun came out just to shine on her Sunday afternoon. We got to the farm about two hours after she was born and got her into the pen after she tried to drown herself in the ditch attempting to escape. Kind of crazy, just like her mom. Oh well, she’s settled down and let us scratch her, and even took tagging and other unpleasant human ministrations without going nuts.

Being born is hard work for everyone involved!  Thor was born last night at 8pm, in the middle of a thunderstorm (hence the name Thor). We didn’t see him last night; too dark, a little rainy, a lot thunder and lightning stormy, and we decided to pack it in and go feed since he was wriggling around and Tuck was very busy cleaning him up.  So we found them in a glen in the “old woods” this morning around 8.30, sound asleep in the sun.

Clearly, Thor is an invisible stealth moo (later, he was a very angry young godling after I tagged him; I fully anticipate him to rain down a lightning bolt from my own personal thundercloud later today, so don’t get too close to me!).

While we’ve not had any calves yet at our place, Bubba’s first 2010 calves are on the ground! Our good friend Theresa has two very nice bull calves; at the time of the photos, they were 2 and 4 weeks old. She’s waiting for one more…..any time now!

We’re also awaiting some calves – the neighbor’s very friendly bull jumped the fence again last spring, but this year we’re going to have not one, but 4 or 5 (or more!) half-Angus calves.  Tiki and Tuck are going to drop some cute little black baldy calves if they breathe too hard. Looking forward to beautiful, healthy calves no matter what flavor they are!

So, I’m negligent. It’s been how long since my last post? Ooops.

I’m on week 2 of the worst cold (possibly walking pneumonia?) in history, which has pretty much laid me flat – and week 1 was spent in Florida, which was colder than home. Ugh. Company was good though – it’s always good to visit family friends (though I wish they were closer to us).

For the second time in less than a week, we went to the farm to find Bubba had let himself into a different pasture. Per usual, he did not break the fence…..he just stretched it a little. How a 2700 lb bull with a neck bigger around than an old growth tree trunk can wriggle through a 6 strand fence without breaking a single wire is beyond me. So, I spent two hours fixing fence, adding wire, and putting in new upright reinforcement wire yesterday. All the while sniffling and coughing, and muttering to myself because I know full well we’re going to go out to feed tomorrow or Wednesday to find him back in that field. Next time I’m just going to leave him there.

And just as I was bringing him back, Maddie decided to help. I beat her to the open gate leading to where Bubba was, but not to the open gate going up the hill. It’s amazing how much lung capacity you lose when you’ve been sick for two weeks. Plus she has 4 legs and is unlikely to lose her boots in the mud.

So she skipped gleefully to the next field to crop the grass that is finally, mercifully, growing, which means we can go to pasture soon! I think spring is upon us! Cherry trees in bloom, forsythia in our yard in full bloom, and the crocuses – oh, how I love crocuses!

As an early spring present, we googled ourselves to find that two of our girls are on the American Hereford Association’s Top 200 list of active dams. What a hoot! I don’t know how AHA makes this determination, and it makes no sense to me, but sure, why not?

And finally, in my update to make up for our recent silence, we welcome home our beautiful horse Alex, aka Crazy Mare. It’s such a joy to have her home. I’d almost forgotten her beautiful face, and “it” girl look when she comes snorting up to me in the field.

Alex & Lizzie - On the trail at Blanchard Mtn

½ lb sirloin steak or beef roast
1 small onion
¾ t salt
Pepper
1½ T lemon juice
1 c sour cream
Lettuce
Lemon wedges

Cut cooked sirloin steak or beef roast into thin strips. Thinly slice onions, separate into rings. Combine beef, onion, salt, and a dash of pepper. Sprinkle with lemon juice. Stir in sour cream. Chill. Serve in lettuce-lined dishes with lemon wedges.

(thanks to Randy White’s Gulf Coast Cookbook)

So, I accidentally saw Avatar again tonight. That, of course, led to late night feeding (again) at the little farm, which my grandmother protected forever with a conservation easement. And then, of course, there was an exchange with a friend about people who are solution-oriented versus those who argue for the sake of arguing….and an earlier meeting where “solutions” were discussed.

After I got over the overwhelming urge (again) to scream at all the millions of people who’ve now seen Avatar “don’t you people get it???” – it’s not like the message isn’t being beaten into us with a 2X4 – I started thinking more fully about where we all fit in the world, and how.

It occurs to me that most people don’t ostensibly work in the field of world improvement, though they may perform their own personal acts of world improvement – like my grandmother, protecting her little part of the world. But there are a lot of people who DO claim to work in the name of improving our community, region, or world in some way – usually in the non-profit sector. What I wonder about is, does being in that sector mean you’re a better person or that you’re actually effectively doing good just by virtue of the fact that you’re taking up space in a non-profit? I see a lot of initiatives, projects, programs, etc that don’t actually move progress – and a lot of people who are effective at moving progress who get hobbled or cut out completely by those who are ineffective.

There may even be some of those people, who are not actually solution or progress oriented reading this, and saying to themselves “yes, exactly.” I think people are not even aware of the hypocrisy of advocating for progress while not effectively forwarding the progress themselves – or, in some cases, actively preventing those who can from doing so.

I think the appropriate quote for these people is: “Sound and fury, signifying nothing.” As always, William Shakespeare gives that nail a good smack on the head.