The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
6-23-2014 Column
This is probably one of the toughest articles I have written in the last four years. What has been happening around our farm lately is nothing compared to so many farmers under the Dairy Star umbrella. (I’m sure many of you wish there was an umbrella large enough to cover some of your fields from the relentless storm systems these past two weeks!) I am humbled and even thankful for the standing water in our fields. Yes, we have had enough rain on the sand plains for the water to remain above ground for a couple of days. You know there has been more than enough rain in our area when the sand guys notice…not complain, but notice the extra water. Our milk truck driver even asked if the irrigation guys could turn on their pivots to help lower the water table on his farm land to the east of us so he could try to plant. Think of the pivots as giant sump pumps!
As our kids drive along the I-29 dairy corridor in South Dakota for their summer internships, to the state Holstein show in Caledonia and everywhere in between, they have seen the impact of the summer storms on the farms. They are now old enough to realize what it means for the livestock producers in these areas as they struggle to secure enough feed for their animals. They feel for their fellow farmers. Mark and I know it is just “déjà vu all over again.”
We are old enough to have been through a weather struggle before and survived. The first year we started farming as newlyweds and partners with Al, was the drought of 1988. We didn’t know where we were going to find enough feed for the cows. The guys concentrated on running our only irrigation gun over 40 acres of corn and 40 acres of alfalfa around the clock, just so we would have some feed to get us to the next year. We knew the next year couldn’t be any worse. It was dry but not quite as bad as the year before. The weather was starting to turn around.
As we struggled and endured that hot, dry summer, Ralph and Mary Lou would share stories of the years they didn’t have enough feed either. Swamp grass and cattails were baled and stored for winter feed but at least they made it through to another growing season. It was “déjà vu all over again.” We all made it through those long days and nights, months and years one step at a time.
It is strange trying to explain to non-farm people about the implications of not being able to plant your crops or to harvest the hay due to floods or drought. When we run out of feed, we can’t just pop down to the grocery store or big box super store and pick up a couple ton of feed like they do a gallon of milk when they run out. We have to make tough choices and sacrifices to survive another year.
If we are old enough, we have survived a wide variety of weather conditions from drought to flood, heat to freezing, snow to hail and everything in between. At times we wondered how in the world are we going to get through the day? It felt as if we were taking a beating, physically and mentally, each and every day as we made hard choices just to keep things going. Why did we keep doing it? Why did we keep trying to find “normal” again? Why did we keep looking for a glimmer of relief or hope? Because we knew our parents and even our grandparents had survived their challenges and we would too. Surviving might not look the same as things use to be. It might be the opportunity to change directions. Survival might just be the kick start to doing things differently.
Survival was certainly the kick start Ruby needed. One night during milking, Mark and I noticed Ruby’s left rear hock was slightly swollen. Oh, great. Just what we needed, another hospital cow. We were already nursing along four cows after complications from twins or leg issues. I swear our cows have more lives than a cat and it is all Mark’s fault. He has a knack and bull-headedness to nurse cows back to a second, third or sometimes fourth life! Because he has been successful in resurrecting some cows in the past, it seems every down cow is just déjà vu all over again. This time though, we didn’t think Ruby was going to be a good candidate.
When the guys arrived in the barn the next morning, they were greeted with Ruby sprawled between her stall, the gutter and alley way. She must have slipped when she was shifting weight off of her sore leg and somehow went down. Luckily she was three stalls from the door. They dragged her out of the barn to rest on the soft dirt and went back to the regular morning routine. After we were done with milking, we were examining Ruby and discussing her options. We figured there was no way her good leg was going to be useful after the awkward position she was stuck in overnight. I started figuring how many pounds of hamburger I was going to have to find freezer space for. Then somebody said the “B” word and she must have understood what a butcher was. She popped up as if she had been shocked and started walking around the yard
Like the rest of us, she is going to struggle for a while before she is back to normal. There will be good days with glimmers of hope for the future and bad days where you wonder if all this extra effort is worth it. We don’t know which way she will go yet, but at least we can say we tried.
We’ve all been through these struggles one way or another. Maybe not exactly in the same manner, but we can all relate to the feelings and struggles we are going through. It is nice to know we are not alone and there are others who truly understand.
If we’re really optimistic I guess we could say we’ve been through this before and if we live long enough we will probably see it again. As Yogi Berra says…”it’s just déjà vu all over again.”
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As their 4 children pursue dairy careers off the farm, Natalie and Mark are starting a new adventure of milking registered Holsteins just because they like good cows on their Minnesota farm. (Natalie grew up in Stronghurst, the daughter of Becky and the late Larry Dowell.)
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