With temperatures staying between -10 and -25 WITHOUT the wind-chill, the past few weeks have been a challenge. Every day there are frozen water taps outside to thaw or buckets to fill in the house. Next we carry them out to the animals and try not to dump any on ourselves. Then we try to coax the cattle out of their shelter to come and drink before it freezes. Then repeat again half a day later. Spring cannot come soon enough. Next year we hope to have a better winter watering system set up.
The cold weather has brought more than inconvenience to some of us. Our one-month-old calf, named Jonny, became hypothermic last week. Mike was out checking the cattle in the morning and noticed the calf was acting strange. He was put under a heat lamp for a half hour, but he just seemed to go further downhill. We decided to take more drastic measures and move him into the house. The kids were ecstatic to see a calf cuddled in warm blankets and surrounded by hot water bottles on our laundry room floor. Jonny had a core temperature of 94 degrees and a heart rate of 50 beats/min which meant he was in critical condition. We decided that he was going to need more than just a warm blanket if he was going to make it. He was first stomach tubed with a homemade electrolyte solution (made with Himalayan salts, baking soda, maple syrup and molasses) and then we called the vet. The vet suggested an antibiotic and steroid injection along with a night in the house with more electrolytes and milk replacer. In the morning the calf was strong enough to go back outside. We were so thankful that the Lord had spared his life. Death is part of farm life. It is the result of livestock getting sick, predator attacks and even from the essential and inevitable butcher. For some of us it is a difficult reality. It is also something that our children have to understand and get used to. Our youngest son, at two years old, kept asking me “why is the baby calf dying?”. We work so hard to give our animals a healthy and happy life. When something goes wrong, it is hard to not blame ourselves. The farmer has been given a responsibility to care for their livestock and very often hold the life of an animal in our hand. Most farmers I know take their duty very seriously and endeavour to be the best stewards they can.
In the chicken coop there is another set of challenges. Our hens are being very stubborn and do not want to lay eggs for us. I am getting very tired of feeding them every day and getting nothing in return. We have tried a myriad of different things to coax them into laying. Our hens now have the whole place to themselves (the goats were kicked out), a heated water bowl, several LED light bulbs (the light spectrum is closer to daylight), 24 new nesting boxes and lots of feed and bedding. Mike installed new roosts this week to see if that helps. One of the trials of farming is that despite our best efforts to get to know our livestock, they still can’t talk to us and tell us what the matter is! Next week we are going to pick up 10 bags of certified organic layer mash for them so I hope they will start laying soon. We have also noticed that they rarely go outside anymore. Maybe they are just sick and tired of winter too. In all honesty I have to say that there is one suggestion I haven’t tried as of yet. Our neighbour, who gets eggs every day, buys his chickens fresh raspberries as a treat from Walmart. Who knows? Maybe I will have to resort to that, but the hens will probably have to compete with the children for them!
The regulations in Ontario limit farms without quota to 100 laying hens, so our egg enterprise will always be small. Those same regulations also make selling eggs anywhere other than our property illegal. Ungraded eggs can only be sold through farm-gate sales.
Winter is beautiful on a farm though. When I look out the window on a beautiful sunny day, the fields are so clean and fresh with snow. The fencerows are a stark contrast with their angular shadows on the soft drifts. It is so nice that I actually was conned by the gorgeous landscape into taking a walk to the back to check if the creek was frozen. The first bit across the open fields was okay since the snow was only about half way up to my knees, but as soon as I was in the shelter of trees the snow was past my knees. When I finally arrived and collapsed at the frozen creek, I realized in horror that I would have to walk back. The creek, by the way, is about 75 acres or so back. Not just a walk in the park. Let’s just say that I am still sore today, three days later!
