The black cows are back!

I guess Spring must be around the corner.  On my way into town yesterday I spotted the first calf.  Seems like they are a little late this year, but it is probably just that my memory is rather slipping.  I did see one little calf, but it was still laying in the field.  Soon there will be lots of the little fellows.  I would love to be able to delude myself into believing that maybe this year they will be allowed to stay together, but you and I both know better than that.  The best I can hope for is that some nice man will buy the calves and raise them to adulthood, but that is not happening.  Until some one proves me wrong, I will know that these calves are born for veal.

I gave up eating veal many years ago when I learned how it is made.  They take baby calves and put them in a very small space so they can not move.  Then they are fed nothing but milk.  This makes them very tender and it is the end result that matters, not how happy a baby calf's life is.  

This is from wikipedia, in case you think I am dreaming this up.  

Veal - Wikipedia

Jump to Cruelty to calves - Calves are slaughtered as early as 2-3 days old (at most 1 month old) yield meat carcasses weighing from to 9 to 27kg. Formula-fed ("Milk Fed", "Special Fed" or "white") veal. Calves are raised on a fortified milk formula diet plus solid feed. The majority of veal meat produced in the US are from milk-fed calves.

‎Definitions and types · ‎Culinary uses · ‎Production · ‎Animal welfare

I see stuff like this and I wonder why I am not a vegan.  I never thought about this until I researched veal.  My daughter raises cattle in Eastern Kansas and last year one of her cows gave birth and then died of milk fever leaving the calf to be bottle fed by my daughter until it was big enough to butcher.  I could not, personally eat anything that I had grown to love, but her reasoning is it makes her happy raising the little calf and then makes her happy again when the calf feeds her.  I guess this is why I have 8 geese out back that are so old they can hardly walk and I feed them every day.  I spend $32.00 a month on goose food. That is a total of $384 a year.  8 geese dressed out would produce 24 pounds of meat.  This is equal to $16.00 a pound.  I have had then 14 years so that makes one pound of goose meat cost $224.  

Beats hell out of me how I got on this tangent, but I am now a mathmetician!  I do know I just wanted to share with you about the little calves.  Farming is a hard life and I guess it takes a special breed to raise food to be eaten.  I am not cut from that pattern, so I will go scramble an egg for breakfast.  Years ago I did raise a couple pigs out back and that was some of the best pork I ever bit into.  I was hard hearted back then, I think.  Now I am old and I am a softie!  I do kill centipedes if they dare to come in the house.  I do not eat them.

Have a good day!

Dennis

I remember my very first up close and personal death.  It was not a human, but it was nonetheless very traumatic.  I do not remember how old I was, but I am thinking maybe in the 4th or 5th grade.  We had a milk cow, because back in those days, if you had kids they needed milk and that was how you got it.  I am thinking this milk cow was white with black spots and unless you were there and remember it differently, we will go with that.  At that tender age, I had no idea about how the birthing process worked.  I had watched a chicken lay an egg once, so I knew where eggs came from, but beyond that was a mystery.

I do not remember the cow's name, but I am assuming it was "Bossy" since that was what most of the cows were named.  I came home from school one day and dad and Rudolph Reinke were standing over Bossy.  I was mortified because Bossy should be upright, because that was what cows did.  They stood upright.  A tiny black calf was laying on the ground not far from Bossy.  No one seemed to notice it.  I finally got the 2 men's attention and they moved the little calf into an empty granary.  It bleated at me and I fell in love with the big black eyes.  I was told not to touch it, but I could watch it.

Returning to the yard I overheard conversation between the 2 men that entailed "milk fever", "going to die", "nothing can be done".  While I did not want to hear or watch what was happening, I was far too curious to just walk away.  And finally, Rudolph came up with something that might work.

"I recall this one time and the only thing to do is split her tail, fill it with black pepper and tape it shut."  My God!  Even at my tender age that sounded horrifying, but these were 2 grown men and surely they knew what they were doing.  No one paid any attention to me as I crouched in the dirt several yards away.

They began the chore of splitting her tail as she wailed and bellowed.  Pepper was dumped into the opening and then the tail was taped and the old milk cow lay there with her eyes rolling.  Very soon she was dead.  I had no idea what to do.  No one seemed to know or care that I was prostate with grief.  I needed my mother, but she was in town cleaning someone's house.  So I went to the only warm body I could find and that was the little black calf in the granary.  I told him his mother was dead, but he did not seem to understand.  I made up my mind in that moment that I would be his mother.

When mother got home she found me there with the little calf and tried to tell me about life and what happens after life.  I named the little calf Dennis and he lived almost a whole day before he died and mother then had to explain to me that Dennis was in heaven with his mother.  I do not know what happened to the bodies of Dennis or his mother.  Back in those days there was a business called "the dead animal wagon, " which I assume came and picked them up and took them God only knows where.

It has been over 65 years and I still think about that little calf.  Not so much his mother, but him with his shiny black coat and the darkest brown eyes.  I guess we are pretty much shaped by our younger days, because I still love little calves.  In the field up the road from my house is a pasture.  There cows are brought to spend a few months and give birth to their calves.  The cows are black and the babies are black.  When the calves are born it is a sight to behold, but they only stay with their mother's for a week or less and then they are loaded into a truck and they go away.  I can hear the mother's calling for the babies and it breaks my heart.  I understand that the calves are taken to a place where they are fed milk and fattened up with no exercise.  That is where "milk fed veal" comes from, which is a delicacy in fancy restaurants.

Man's inhumanity  never ceases to amaze me.  The circle of life never ceases to amaze me.  I accept it, but it does not mean I like it.