Mama Red and Clan are in Trouble

Mama Red and Baby Boy and Baby Girl

It started two long weeks ago with a phone call from my brother, Jamie, on whose farm in South Carolina Mama Red and her one-year-old twins (Baby Boy is beside her and Baby Girl on the ground) as well as her steer from two years ago live.  And when I say “live,” I mean these animals can ride out their days there until they die.  For Mama Red and Baby Girl, this means being able to stay alive vs. at around age 8 or so, being taken to slaughter where they make hamburger out of old mama cows.  For Baby Boy, though, this means being able to live past age two, when he would be considered at his prime for steaks and roasts, etc.

This is unheard of, this freedom to live out their days.  And I’m talking unheard of on a regular farm like my brother’s and not places that give sanctuary to these animals, such as the wonderful Farm Sanctuary http://www.farmsanctuary.org/ or the Gentle Barn http://www.gentlebarn.org/.

What I’m saying is my brother, bless him, lets me give sanctuary to Mama Red and her offspring.   Mama Red, as most of you know, is a character in the novel I am writing, One Good Mama Bone.

But back to the phone call.  Jamie told me that Baby Boy is not the “steer” we were thinking he was — he’s actually a “bull.”  As explanation here, steer means a neutered male, which means he has no testicles.  Jamie typically takes care of this soon after the males are born and does this by putting rubber bands around their testicles, which makes them eventually fall off.  Jamie thinks he may have overlooked doing this for Baby Boy.  So what, you might ask.  Baby Boy could try to breed his own sister and even his own mother.  Not good.  One solution we talked about was separating him and putting him in with the regular bull, if the other bull would let him.  Another solution was to hire a vet and castrate him now.  I hated the thought of putting him through either, but I was prepared to, given the alternative of selling him.  Which is No Ma’am.  No Sir.  Not ever.

Baby Boy minutes after being born June 2010

But that wasn’t the real trouble.  The real trouble is my brother’s farm is in a severe drought.  Jamie last week called to tell me that what we decide to do with Baby Boy could be moot, if the pasture doesn’t get rain.  And soon. It’s hard for me to even write these words, but he means that he’ll be forced to sell the animals, including mine, since the pasture now is close to dirt.

I called my father to talk to him about alternatives.  He said to me, “Brenda, we’re running a cattle business here.  This is what you do when you have to do.”

“I don’t have to do,” I told him.  No Sir.

It’s been a week now, and there’s been no rain.  The forecast today calls for a 20% chance with a high of 98 and a low of 74.  You could ditto that for tomorrow.  After that, the chance of rain falls to nothing until you hit the weekend, and then it’s back up to 20%.

Jamie says he may not be able to wait that long.

I told him Let’s find hay from somewhere and ship it in.  I’ll pay for it, regardless of what it costs.

We’re looking.

And praying.

Won’t you join us?