We went out to dinner! We hadn't seen Roz and Alan for ages and Alan said that as he was about to get a beast killed, he needed us to go and help him eat a lot of steak to make room in his freezer for the new lot. I wasn't really up to "a lot of steak" but Stephan had a good go. A couple of other friends joined in and we had a very pleasant evening.
This morning we started freezing milk, in preparation for Zella's dry period leading up to her next calf's birth.
The straining muslin I use for the milk each morning was slimy on addition of soap during washing yesterday so this morning I took four plastic cups down to collect a milk sample from each quarter individually, then did the detergent test on them all to find out what was going on. (The "home mastitis test" involves the mixing of a 1:3 solution of dish-washing liquid detergent and water, then gently mixing that in equal proportions with each milk sample, to see if it causes the milk to thicken and clump.) Her back right quarter has a detectable somatic cell presence on that test, so from this morning Stephan milked that separately for the pigs and we'll have the other three quarters.
The somatic cells are white blood cells produced to fight inflammation or infection. Zella goes through phases when there are detectable somatic cells in her milk, mostly related to stressful periods like the beginning of lactation and weaning. She rarely has "clinical" mastitis, i.e. Stephan can't feel or see any difference in her udder or the milk when he's milking and there's no difference in the milk's appearance, taste or smell as we're consuming it, although the cream is slightly different then and doesn't keep as long. That's not a very pleasant thought, but we are drinking the milk of a living animal and thinking that we have ever had "pure milk" out of cows is unrealistic. It's all food.
This is 823 on the hill Over the Road. I can tell by the set of her ears.
Here she is again, on the left, coming to investigate what we were doing with grey 807, who was standing enjoying a scratch around her head.
Such wild cattle are tricky to deal with.
I sent this picture to the manufacturer of the cattle crush we're buying, to demonstrate the nature of the cattle we need to contain in the equipment.
I remain surprised by 807's temperament. Some of her maternal relatives have been nervous creatures and her sire, bull 137, was tricky - and so were many of his relatives. Both of the black heifers above (813 is the other) are his daughters and skittish creatures. 807 is delightful.
Looking down the other side of the hill, is some very wet land! I wonder if it is poor drainage, poor fertility, a difference in soil type or management that causes the water to remain sitting on the surface? One of the paddocks out to the right is also obviously wet, evidenced by the orange tinge of the wet-area weed growing there.
Mr Big 87.
I walked him in this morning and set up the electric tape to keep him in the round-about, out of the way of the driveway but ready to be inspected by the vet later this afternoon.
As I looked at this picture before writing about it, I wondered what on earth was beside his muzzle: it's his long tongue, flicking out to gather in the grass for his next mouthful.
The vet came, watched him carefully as he walked around, pronounced him fit to travel on the truck to the works this week and left me with the Fitness of Livestock For Transport Certificate that will go with him on the truck.
He barely needs a certificate now, his lameness being almost undetectable but as I had previously consulted the vet about his leg injury, I felt it wise to follow the process through and ensure he was indeed fit to travel without risk of the journey causing a flare-up of the injury. The point of the inspection and certificate is to ensure the welfare of the animal is protected.
I'm going to miss my big bull. Born in 2009 to Delilah 36, he was one of the three bulls I kept from that year, siring many lovely daughters over the years (and many sons, but they nearly all get sold, so I don't have long-term relationships with them). His temperament has always been calm, so I kept him for much longer than the other two, as a reliable back-up bull. Last year he suffered horribly from having long-wet feet during our very wet winter and then in the summer, he injured his stifle (like our knee, the big joint above where the legs join the body of a bovine) during mating and since then has had to be kept quietly in flat paddocks. I dare not keep him any longer. A nine-year-old bull is old in the farming world.
We think Zoom has partially weaned herself already. In the morning after milking, she and Zella greet each other with a mutual grooming session but Zoom doesn't even bother to try and feed. I suspect she does so later in the day but we very rarely see such activity. It's not as though she needs the milk now.
Four prospective chicken dinners. They were beautiful roosters but being male birds, this was always their destiny.
Stephan quickly chopped their heads off and then used a big bucket of hot water to help strip the feathers from their skin. He brought them inside to clean them before quartering some for casseroles and left a couple whole for roasts. After they'd been chilled for a while in the fridge, he vacuum sealed them and put them in the freezer.
While I was away, Stephan planted this Akeake sapling (the little tree on the right) in the sheep cemetery reserve. This is the plant I rescued during Stephan's work to prepare the new track and fencing between the PW and Middle Back paddocks two years ago.
The cull cattle went today, on one of the worst sort of weather days for travelling: there were heavy rain warnings and eventually lots of flooding further south. Fortunately there was little rain here and the cattle got to Moerewa without incident, despite lots of serious road flooding north of Whangarei.
We brought the cows in and spray painted marks on their backs and tagged 606, who's never had a NAIT tag, tried to tag Queenly 107, who had lost hers: she ended up with a scratched ear and was so determined not to let Stephan tag her that we decided she would have to go as "impractical to tag" and we'd pay the penalty.
Mr Big 87 was on the other side of the race and I brought the two younger bulls in and put them with the cows. I didn't want to have the bulls too near each other, fearing a big fight, but the youngsters were quite quiet once they were with the cows.
They were:
- Queenly 107: daughter of Queenly 23, born in 2011. She twice had some trouble calving, although her first, smallest calf was no bother. Like her mother, she had soft, silky hair. She has also long been very thin; she seemed healthy enough but I am not comfortable with thin cows, they have too little in reserve for the tough periods in winter.
- Queenly 149, her daughter, only two years old but after the hideous trouble she had during calving, I decided the whole family had to go. As Queenly 107's third calf (and a heifer), she should not have got stuck during her own birth and as a well-grown heifer should not have had trouble in calving, herself; I conclude there is something in this family that creates calves with deep chests, making calving difficult. Queenly 149 is also potentially a carrier of AM from her nice sire, bull 128. I've not tested her to see if she carries the gene and now it will not matter.
- Dexie 121, daughter of Dexie 101. Dexie 121 was a lovely-looking animal and one I've enjoyed having in the herd except that as she gets older, her behaviour is worsening: she's a horrible bully in the yards and when she has just calved, causes all sorts of strife for anyone else nearby.
- Jemima 146, small, stroppy, has had to have both her calves pulled, the first because she wasn't quite big enough as a two-year-old, due to her small sire and the second because it was coming backwards. She does not like me. I sometimes think she'll have a go at me, although she has never seriously threatened me. Her calves are small at weaning.
- Deva 135, one of Eva's daughters. She calved for the first time as a three year old and never recovered her condition afterwards. She either has something wrong internally or she's just not right for this environment. I suspect her sire has not been a good match for my cows and this farm.
- 606, a lovely fat cow who was sometimes a bit snippy with me but always quiet enough for a scratch. She was the third calf of lovely old 475 who went to the works last year. 606 got to stay last year when she held to the one insemination chance I gave her but the calf was as unimpressive as her others, so now she must go. 606 was my calving-fling cow.
- 725, sister of 606, daughter of Mr Big 87. I have really liked this cow but she's dangerous to help in the yards and during the last two calvings has led me to believe she required such assistance because she took so many hours in labour. I knew I'd not be able to inseminate her - I tried in January 2017 and the note I made at the time was "never again! - and anyone with any sort of difficult temperament this year got an insemination sire with a reputation for a very calm temperament.
- 743, one of the first heifers I kept for breeding from her sire. But it looks like I made an unfortunate choice in regard to milking ability: 743 has ended up in her third lactation with a very slack and expansive udder, the sort of structure that will only cause trouble in time. She also suffered some periods of lameness over the last couple of years and occasionally shows a hint of a shoulder problem. I would rather not have to deal with that again.
- 750, like 743, a great-granddaughter of 371, one of my lovely old cows with a terrible udder. (They're also both nieces of the twins.) It looked like the udder issue had finally been beaten in this cow but she has other issues, unfortunately: there is something structurally wrong with her hips or hind leg joints. She doesn't appear uncomfortable but she walks funny. She's done fairly well with her calves and causes me no problems but funny walks are not what one needs in an animal who has to spend her life up and down steep hillsides.
- Bull 151, a fine-looking fellow but oh, so noisy! He's been a little scary at times, which is why he really does need to go. His calves were quite nervous when they were small but not so bad by weaning and he was quite useful because he sired short-gestation calves. But huge bulls with excitable temperament are not the sort of animal I want to deal with for long.
- Bull 160, Deva 135's and Mr Big's son. He's grown really well but with a very skinny mother, I didn't want to keep and use him much. He's also more nervous than I like, something that may well come through in his one calf this spring.
- Mr Big 87: good bye my lovely and thank you.
I ended up being present for loading, since I wanted to ensure Mr Big went on first and quietly and there were particular cows I wanted to accompany him, for his safety - nobody likely to come on heat, for instance, tempting him to try and mount them!
The first two pens went up quietly but there was a bit of bother with the third lot and bull 151. By the time there's been a lot of banging and clanging with the first lots on the truck, the last ones are getting a bit fractious and less willing to go up the ramp. But it was all done relatively well and off they went in the rain.
Sarah, who had come out earlier in the day, was having a lovely snooze with Wanairangi, in Stephan's rocking chair, when we returned quietly to the house. I always appreciate some pleasant distraction on works day.
Later in the afternoon I moved the rest of the cattle, including the 16 Over the Road, from the smaller corner to the larger hillside area.
This Pukeko ran past my office window early this afternoon, carrying a long tendril of something green, suspiciously like Tradescantia from the stream bank on the other side of the track, around the outside of the garden and down to the area by the pond.
I got up to see what it was doing, watching it stop whenever it dropped its prize, picking it up again before continuing on.
Its destination was a nest of newly-hatched chicks, where it began picking bits from the tendril to feed to the babies.
I have no idea what they're doing with chicks at this time of year. NZ Birds Online says they will breed in any month up here but I don't remember seeing them nesting so early in winter.
Of greater concern is that they might be planting Tradescantia all over the place!
Any time, anywhere, the grass under the fence must be greener. She's usually right but this is now 746's regular grazing mode.
Abigail used to be the under-the-fence pruner but she did it by lowering her head between straight legs and reaching as far as she could.
Stephan arrived home from town in the ute, towing a trailer upon which was a small digger!