'Til the Cows Come Home

The first week in January means that it is time to start the migration of the Hansen cow herd towards the home place from their winter feeding grounds.  This three mile trek over pasture and county roads requires a minimum of five off-road trail vehicles, a lead tractor and hayrack, and two grandmas (one to watch the littlest cowkids and another to stop traffic when we get the herd out on the road).  It's quite a production, and one that I haven't missed in many years. Here's why:

"Phase One of Annual Herd Migration complete: Three mile drive thru rough terrain. Mud made it inside the vehicle. Touch and go for a few seconds there. Maxed out cool points with the kids again. Tiny cowboys and cowgirl yelling between steel horses giggling about the anatomical differences between bulls and cows. Herd will get used to their nonstop banter just as humans have. In all the commotion, three whitetails stumbled into the action. What a sight! Herd secure. City Slickers home from the ranch."

Working our way across the section

Make sure the window is up before you go mud running!

Three whitetail deer decided to see what all of the fuss was about. It was fortunate I got to share this quiet moment with my oldest son as we waited for the rest of the gang to get the herd moved to our position.

Billy Crystal should be jealous of this yearly undertaking.  Unfortunately, in all these years, we still haven't found Curly's Gold (that's a '90s movie reference for those of you who don't remember)!  We do get the Karsky Family out of town for extra assistance, and with all the littles around these days, we adults have to keep our sweet talk for the bosses rated PG.  The weather was nice the Saturday we moved the herd, and we had some trouble getting the cows rounded up and through the first gate to start our journey.  Believe it or not, livestock actually moves more willingly when the weather is poor.  They felt good, but once they figured out where they were going, they didn't cause any problems. 

This is a therapeutic undertaking for me.  The farm has always been my sanctuary. A necessary haven  to restore the balance of my introverted personality with the demands of a sales career.  Coming down from the rush of the holidays and an extraordinarily busy December market, it was a chance to spend a morning doing something a little out of the ordinary.  There is something to be revered about a Nebraska sunrise, fog in the valleys, and frost on the fence posts.  Just me and my family, a few close friends, the smell of burnt clutch and scorched exhaust, and the cows. Each doing a little part while working as one cohesive unit, doing what we have always done, 'til the cows come home.

Onto new feeding grounds for a few weeks.

I'll admit, I don't get much time anymore to really spend with the herd.  I used to know every cow...her demeanor, her tag number, her given name.  Some of that has gotten away from me as the pressures of a full-time career and family have taken precedence.  My herd has shifted to one made of people.  I don't regret that shift, but I do love a chance to look over the cow herd once in a while. Like people, each head of livestock has its own personality.  Over time, you learn to look for those wild-eyed heifers who like to keep their head up in the air.  They will be the first to spoil a good day.  These spirited cows aren't loyal, and they can ruin your taste for the whole business if you let them.  Eventually, you find that the best way to deal with a cow like this is to haul her to market, but not before she breaks down some of your fences.  While mending fences, you learn how to look for the signs next time and protect yourself before another one jumps over your brand new shiny gate and makes an oversized U-joint out of it.

Those wild-eyed heifer types give you new respect for those cows who have paid their dues and methodically plod at the back of the main herd as they make the trek home.  Those are the stubborn bosses who are upwards of 20 years old and might have even been a part of the study group for your Neihardt Honors Colloquium at Wayne State College. There is a lot to learn from the wherewithal of those old cows.  They have endured because they produce good calves, give good milk, and weather the storms successfully.  Once the heart of the herd, they are the bloodlines to all the younger stock.  Those old girls have a hard time keeping up, but they have played a vital role in the overall success of the herd.

Knowing where the two extremes lie makes it easier to establish a mutually beneficial relationship with the rest of the herd.  It is safe to say that if they do their part, I will do mine, and all will be rewarded with greener pastures in the end.  There are many correlations that can be made between that cow herd and my human herd so long as you don't get all sensitive on me and take offense to the comparison.  Farm life taught me how to take care of my human herd.  If you put your trust in me, I'll do my very best for you right up 'til the cows come home.  After all, what fun would life be if it was all just real estate and roses?  Welcome Home.