A Farm Story

It has been a while since I've had a good farm story to tell. Until now.

This cutie arrived at my school yesterday morning.

He is a two-week old bull calf. We will bottle-feed him until he is on grain. The whole school will care for him, but he is a K and 1 project. We will make sure he has food in the barn (for the chore group to feed from), keep up with vaccines, feed him in the afternoon, and then sell him when the time is right.

You know I know a lot about teaching (I think). But farming? Not so much. I know as much as anyone has told me.

Late yesterday Mrs. Jones asked me to give this cutie his last bottle of the day. Sure did. Used the wrong milk replacer. Thought I was making the calf sick on his first day at school. Uh-oh.

But, no worries, this morning he was fine.

Mrs. Jones trusted me enough (she sure is a crazy one) to ask me to give him a bottle this afternoon. 

I got to school just before the storm. There was no time to go inside and get my chore boots, so my only foot protection was flip-flops. Duh, I know better, but the storm, I didn't want to get wet.

Hurried, got the bottle ready (used the correct milk) and took it out to the guy.

He was hungry and an eager drinker and not ready for the bottle to be empty when it was. He started toward me asking for more milk. I do not know how to talk to bull calves. I am no calf whisperer. How can I tell him no more milk?

I had anticipated that he might come asking for more milk. So I had a plan. Jump on the fence and climb over before he starts to head butt me or push me down to the ground.

Perhaps I have too many city-girl stories going through my head about bulls. 

In any case, I made it out of the pen the easy way--over the fence, not through the gate. And then I had time to laugh at myself.

He must be ok, because we are going to have children caring for him.

I've got some more farm learning to do...

One more picture. This was yesterday, when he was calm and laid on the ground for his whole bottle.