We recently had a bad bout of sickness in one of our herds, and Dad and Mr. HH were doctoring a LOT of baby calves over the past few weekends. By the end, the mama cows were pretty much fed up with having their babies caught by a big long hook, wrestled to the ground, and having pills stuffed down their throat. I was standing in the back of the feed pickup trying to stay above the dust, but they were having quite the lively conversation (yelled, of course, to be able to be heard above all the bawling). These pictures are kind of dark, but that’s only because this took place kind of in the dark.
Dad: “Hold his legs, hold ‘em!”
Mr. HH: “I’m trying, but this cow is getting in my back pocket…”
Dad: “She’s bluffing, ignore her and HOLD HIS LEGS.”
Mr. HH: “She’s breathing on my neck!”
Dad: “She’s BLUFFING. OW, he BIT me, hold his legs!”
Mr. HH: “Does SHE know she’s bluffing?”