Stall Six

It’s raining calves on the ranch. Today we moved another set of cow-calf pairs away from the drys (those that haven’t calved yet). It’s probably the most nuanced move we make on the ranch. The trick is to leave the drys settled, while pressuring the pairs just enough to peel them away from the others. If you’ve never felt the razor edge of a bovine flight zone, this is excellent practice.

We're well into calving now, and I'm just getting to the blog I intended to write about the occupants of stall six. Mark had brought in a baby that couldn’t get the hang of sucking. His tongue leaked out the side of his mouth so he couldn’t get a good drag. And he looked a little lopsided otherwise. Maybe he had laid in the womb wrong. Mark prepared a stall with fresh straw and walked the cow and calf inside. He knelt next to the cow and guided the hungry calf close to her flank. If Mark cupped the teat just right, the calf could suck. After a couple of days the baby figured it out and the happy couple went back outside to the herd.

Tending the pair was my first stint in the old calving barn this spring, and it seemed good to be back inside its cozy walls. It’s the oldest working building on the ranch, so familiar and functional. It’s warm and quiet during severe weather. And in late morning when I clean stalls alone, and sunshine flows through the gaps in the wood siding, it has a timeless feel that makes me think of Grandpa and Grandma and how happy they must have been when the barn was new.  

Calving is serious business, but you can tell the Pratts have had fun in the barn over the years. There's a neon "Lucky On Tap" sign hanging from the ceiling that dates to long before my time. I tried plugging in the cord and, no, it doesn't work anymore. There's a Hereford sign on the back wall, two cowboy portraits in the straw room, and a scratchy transistor radio on the shelf. 

And though I love the old building, I’m campaigning for some upgrades. Maybe a blog will get Mark's attention! The sliding door across the front is temperamental and Jesse got locked inside one day when it wouldn’t track. It’s heavy and requires both hands and my whole weight put into it to get it closed. There’s an inside door that leads to the warm room, or "technology lab" as the sign on the door reads. It needs replaced as well. It doesn’t shut and stay closed easily, you have to twist it towards the interior of the door and then push solidly. We go in and out of the warm room continually. Inside is a relic refrigerator which holds extra milk, a deep sink with hot running water, clean towels, syringes and treatment bottles, various tools for the task at hand, and a heater on the wall to warm up a cold calf if needed.

So, yeah, it would be nice to absentmindedly shut the door. It’s not like we have any extra attention or time during calving season.   

mother and baby cozied up

Pratt Calving Barn