The drover was due at the gate right around the time I had
to head out to pick up our homestay student. I was walking to the car when I
noticed the Farmer circling on his ATV, trying frantically to get the cattle
out of the pasture and into the barn. Sighing, I pulled on my barn shoes and rushed
out to help.
I stuffed a couple apples in my pocket before leaving the
house. Once outside, I noticed Mocha had spotted the gate left open for the
drover. She was skipping across the tractor ruts, ever so gratefully, in an
attempt to escape without notice through that portal to freedom. A fragrant
apple tree stands on the other side. Her favourite.
I managed to get past her just as the ATV rounded the
corner. The next trick would be to get her back inside the farm gate without
letting anyone else out. The rest of the herd had caught on to her plan and
were milling about the fence, mooing encouragement and protest. Then I
remembered the apple in my pocket: a sure way to get Mocha to follow you to the
ends of the earth.
Next, we had to get the bull in the barn. It was his turn to
head onward to his next posting. He would be taken to market to be bought by
another farmer. He would soon be king of another herd. The Farmer tried in vain
to push the entire herd through the narrow cattle chute. That wasn’t happening.
Eventually he gave up and pushed them through the fence at the side of the
barn, hoping they would notice the fresh hay bale he had placed inside the
barn. They did. Problem solved. Next, he hopped off the ATV and onto the
tractor to lift a heavy iron gate into the opening. We no longer have a sliding
barn door there, as the bull used it for a head butting toy last year.
I ran back to the house, jumped in the car and set off to
pick up our girl. When I returned, the drover truck was just leaving. It was an
Irish goodbye. The cattle stood and stared at the truck as it rattled across
the tractor ruts, down the lane and out of their lives. Then one by one, the
cows headed back out to pasture.
I wonder what they are thinking? Their bull is gone. Their
calves are gone. You can tell me they are simple animals and they aren’t
thinking anything, but I know better. I have seen cows expressing frustration,
sorrow, contentment and delight. You can’t tell me they don’t feel something
when big changes happen in their limited lives. We try to make them as happy
and comfortable as possible while they are here. That is our role.
Soon another truck will arrive. The cattle will gather at
the gate when they hear it rounding the corner. They know the rattle of a
cattle truck means either the arrival or the exit of another animal. Soon it
will be their turn, to go off to their new farm. We trust their new farmer will
treat them with respect and consideration too.
And to whoever buys our bull at market, please take note. He
may be built like a small snowplow but he has a very gentle spirit. When the
drover arrived to collect him, he did just as he had when we first bought him.
He followed the gentle hand bearing sweetfeed and hopped up into the back of
the truck with very little convincing. He will eat apples out of your hand, with
a bite more gentle than a pup’s. Of course we always kept a farm implement or
fence between us and the bull, out of respect for his basic instincts to butt
with his head. We also gave him plenty of room during mating or calving season,
as he took his job very seriously. He is a good bull. We called him Dono, as
printed on his ear tag, because he came from the Donoghue farm. Please leave
him some heavy objects that he is allowed to push around the barnyard; he loves
that. A fallen tree trunk or rusted out old plough will do. If you treat him
well, he will serve you well.
And as for us, we will wait to see what happens next on the
farm, without animals.
-30-
No comments:
Post a Comment