Not weiner, you sick-o, I said weaner.
The whole contraption is a perfect example of the sense of humor most ranchers have to have. You see, you put these big yellow tags in the baby cows’ nostrils and then they can’t nurse because the tag gets in the way of their mouth. It’s kind of hilarious and it’s much nicer than just ripping the babies from their mothers’ udders unexpectedly leaving them to bawl and moo for days on end. With the easy-weaner, (okay, maybe I really like saying that) they still get to be with mom, they just can’t get their mouth on the milk so they eventually learn to survive on grass alone.
But. . I can’t find the camera with the photos of the big day. It’s one of the side-effects of no longer having my own working camera–the blog lags as I locate, borrow, use, return, and re-locate the ranch camera. A shiny, new, Gretta-only camera is on the way. I have high hopes of the blog becoming full of beautiful ranch photos and funny anecdotes at that time (yes, maybe a little like Lauren and I’s hero, the Pioneer Woman, but no where near as over-achieving).
So, until I find the camera, I’m posting some pictures of another easy-weaner, our baby number one–Peyton–on a supper ride this summer. Luckily, she’s been weaned for a while now and we didn’t have to put anything in her nostrils to make it happen. She is a ham. I guess that might be from hanging out with a staff of 25 kids around 20 years old all summer. Thanks, Calvin, for the great photos of our little stinker.