Mauling of the Gloves
- March 27, 2024
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- Jan Swan Wood
Posted in: Featured, Ranch Life
Calving time is actually my favorite time of year. I enjoy seeing the calves bouncing around and since I
calve on green grass, it’s not as tough as the old days of calving in March, thus more enjoyable.
Some years ago I was in the midst of calving season. First thing in the morning I’d walk the small calving pasture and tag and band any new calves. My cows, after generations of selecting for disposition, were great mothers but not aggressive toward me at all. So, strolling along and doing what I was doing was a pretty nice way to start the day.
A calf that had been up and nursing at dusk the evening before was laying by a bank with its mother
grazing nearby. She was #41 and a stellar producer at around eight years of age. When I peaked under a
leg, I saw that she had a bull calf, so I would need to band him. In order to band him, I needed my gloves
off, so, seeing as how I’d had several calves paint my gloves with yellow calf poop, I tossed the gloves off about four feet away from me. I got my bander and tagger ready, tucked them in my vest pockets, and picked the bull calf up enough that I could tip him back against my legs to band him. Holding him in that position, he struggled for a moment, then I proceeded with the banding. His mother kept nosing at him and talking to him, and I’d had to move her head out of the way to band him, but she was not on the prod at all.
As I returned the bander to my pocket, I took out a couple pieces of cake and tossed them on the ground for #41. She quickly slurped them up and looked for more. Seeing my gloves, she put her nose
over to them at the same moment I tagged the calf. He let out a little startled squeak, and she reacted
instantly.
She bellered and mashed my gloves with her forehead, actually getting down on her knees to do it. In
the meantime, I’d let the calf return to his laying down position and rubbed him a moment before straightening up. I watched in fascination as my gloves were being cow killed.
I’ve seen gloves get many terrible things on them and done to them, but never in my life had I ever seen a pair of gloves get so brutally mauled by a cow. They were slobbery and smeared in a cow pie before she was done. I stepped away from her calf, tossed her another piece of cake and walked away a ways. She grabbed the piece of cake and then gave her calf the once over to be sure he was okay. She looked back at my thoroughly trounced gloves to be sure they were dead.
I picked the gloves up and wiped them off on the grass as best I could. Putting them on, I walked away, shaking my head over #41 and the brutal attack on my gloves. Made me thankful to be the calf tagger and bander and not a lowly glove.
Posted in: Featured, Ranch Life
About Jan Swan Wood
Jan was raised on a ranch in far western South Dakota. She grew up horseback working all descriptions of cattle, plus sheep and horses. After leaving home she pursued a post-graduate study of cowboying and dayworking in Nebraska, New Mexico, Montana, Wyoming and South Dakota....