Bell-Bottom Working Chute
I asked Dr. Dick, my veterinarian, to come pregnancy test my cows last week.
I don’t have enough hay to feed any slackers who won’t pay me back with a calf.
The cattle futures market is falling so the cash market is likely to follow.
I have little grass left after a hot, dry summer.
Every open cow needs to leave the ranch and leave soon.
So I asked a couple of friends and my brother, Roger, to help gather the cattle from the pasture and run them through the working chute, one at a time, so Dr. Dick could ultrasound each cow.
I didn’t buy this chute brand new.
My late husband, Steve, enjoyed a day at an auction and came home with an alley and squeeze chute that was probably built in the late 1970s.
Bell-bottom 70s.
Shaggy hair 70s.
Hot-shot the cows 70s.
I don’t need a squeeze chute very often so a vintage system seemed like the right investment.
As I got ready to check the cows, I thought about wearing bell-bottoms, but I was afraid that the hem would get caught in my spurs.
Just as the cows got caught in the alley.
Modern alleys have a curve so the next cow can’t see the commotion ahead of her.
They are designed with the bovine handling RULE in mind– move cows Round, Uphill, Light and Easy – 2020s skinny jeans style, not 1970s bellbottomed style.
Modern chutes are just wide enough so a cow can walk through, but not turn around.
My bell-bottom chute is short and straight. Sometimes, I imagine a disco ball hanging about half way down the alley.
A cow resisted moving down the alley. Apparently, she saw the disco ball, too.
Then cow after cow began to trying to turn around, horseshoeing their heads, mashing against the walls.
Chute adjustments didn’t help.
As hard as we tried, Roger and I could not be in all the right places at the right times.
One leapt up on to the gate.
Another leapt over a panel.
None of it was pretty.
All of it was dangerous to the cow.
Worst of all, each time, I was training her to resist the next time I needed her to go down the alley.
Dr. Dick might have heard me swear a couple of times.
I know Roger heard me.
We had to stop to repair panels twice, all the while Dr. Dick’s wasted time was heavy on my mind.
Veterinarians sell their time and I was using more than I should.
We got the cows tested, but narrowing and reinforcing the alley just moved up my priority list.
I started thinking about where I have railroad tie posts lying around -- and more yellow twine.
I might even drill a few holes for gate hinges.
I might not, though.
I don’t want to overdo anything.
A shocked Dr. Dick might fall over.
At the end of the day, 96 percent of my cows were bred.
In this dry, hot, barren breeding season, I’ll take it.
The suspicious cows confirmed their lack of a calf preparing to appear next spring.
Those cows quickly pivoted from partners to potential cash in my pocket.
While I had the cows separated from the calves, I weaned the calves.
The cows can go forage for dry grass and grow next year’s babies while the calves learn to eat hay.
It’s a bit noisy around here.
That’s a good sign.
It means the calves are still in the corral and missing their mothers.
My alley and working chute might wear 1970’s bellbottoms, but the corral leans more toward Wranglers and collared, snap shirts.