There is a long stretch of the year when we can hardly catch our breath. The schedule is booked solid. Chicks arrive in mid-February. The garden starts to go in early in March. Before you know it we are planting a fall crop in the garden, cutting the last of the hay and watching the birds fly South. Every day is long and it seems like we are always behind. Then it is November and you realize you didn’t make an appointment for the hogs. Shoot.

In November the sun rises after I leave for work and goes down before I get home. That’s ok. The cows don’t ask for much from us. There are no chicks. The hay is in the barn. Pigs need very little. We still have a number of projects around the farm but it is time to catch our breath.

It’s hard to take a picture of the cows in the dark but tonight the sky cooperated very nicely. The moon had just risen.

Right now the moon is rising when I’m doing chores at night and still up when I drive to work. It’s kind of nice.

In the distance I hear the constant sound of fans drying grain in bins. It’s like the sound of a car coming down the pavement at speed but constantly in the background. Once in a while I hear a chicken negotiating for more space on the roost. In the center of the picture are headlights from my neighbor’s tractor. He’s doing his fall plowing, even at night as we are expecting some weather in the next two days. The sound of the tractor is hardly noticeable. You have to stop and listen to the world around you.

The cows are at the South edge of the property and can drink from the pond. They congregate under a grove of maple trees near the edge of the pond at night. The grove seems to hold warmth and the pond moderates the temperature change. I would prefer that they sleep and manure uphill but…you know. Cows today. Can’t tell them anything.

So my evening consists of walking in the cold moonlight to check the cows for any signs of bloat and just to say “hello”. Then I check the pigs for food and water, put on my pajamas and park my tookus by the fire. Similarly, my morning is just a walk to the cows and a peek at the pigs. Julie checks water and collects eggs later in the day.

This farming thing is so much easier in the fall!

Fall came a little late but it’s here in force now. We just had four nights in a row of below-freezing temperatures. Now we have to be in the habit of disconnecting our hoses at night and laying them on a slope to drain. An extra chore. Rain is just about to set in so we’ll be up to our knees in mud before long.

This fall cold snap probably won’t last. We have seen 90 degree days in November before. But it’s a reminder of what is coming…and soon. The next few nights will kill the alfalfa and clover as well as the summer grasses. The leaves will begin to fall in earnest.

We have already slowed the cows down, asking them to crop the grass very close on the South-facing slopes. I expect these slopes will have time to put on another 8 inches of grass before the fescue really goes dormant in December but, for now, I want to put down a lot of hooves, mouths and manure in tight pastures…even if we move several times/day. That late fall regrowth will be just what the doctor ordered in April when we are looking for a little pasture to graze. The fescue should come through winter in good shape.

I plan to feed a little hay while we are on this North-facing slope. Roots are shallow here and the plants have a hard time in the blazing sun of July and August. They have fully recovered since the last grazing but the plant population is lower than we would like and, again, root systems are shallow. We are relying on hooves to push waste hay and manure into the soil surface, disturbing the soil and making a nice bed for seed germination as weather allows…possibly in the spring. The hay idea comes from my talks with David Hall. He said he fed 30 days worth of hay across 5 months to make the hay and pasture stretch. We are sort of starting that now…at least, right here where the pasture is poor. Grazing in tight areas, moving daily, feeding a little hay in the morning…about 1/10th of the dry matter a cow would otherwise need.

That all sounds nice. We have a plan. But it is not without its problems. Shorter days, colder weather, hose management, extra bedding for pigs…nothing life-altering but many small extra chores with fewer hours of daylight causing problems.

Well, the good news is no cows died.

We had a hot cow early Sunday afternoon.  She was standing with her tongue sticking out and mountains of drool falling from her mouth.  Heat stress.  How did this happen?  She was standing next to a water tank that was half-full.  The other cows were lounging in the shade.  What on Earth!?

As an immediate fix we moved the cows under a tree and filled a water tank with fresh, cold water.  Then we hosed the hot cow down with cool water.  It didn’t take long and we were out of danger.  She took a good drink of cold water then another.  Ultimately she lay down in the shade with the other girls.

OK.  What went wrong?  We had the cows up for milking…normal thing.  The night before I asked them to mow the driveway.  They obliged.  The next morning I thought they could mow out by the mailbox for me.  They were delighted.  4″ grass and clover mix must have been what they dreamed of.  Then, to top off the tank, I let them graze the ditch.

After the emergency passed, I came inside to fully research what I did wrong.  Turns out, that high-protein grazing early in the day mixed with increasing temperatures was a recipe for disaster.  Good thing they were up by the house!  This PDF provides a good summary of signs and causes.

The cows were stuffed to the gills just as the day got hot.  The full rumen was limiting lung capacity.  The heat of fermentation was compounding the problem.  Plus, this is a heifer who hasn’t shed her winter coat out well.  Greg Judy says that’s grounds for culling.  I think she needs another year as I basically took her off of hot feed and threw her on pasture in April.  She may just need time to adjust nutritionally.  As long as she doesn’t come up open…

So.  We are now introducing the cows to fresh pasture in the evening, moving once/day.  I’m also checking to be sure there is shade available in every paddock.  Consequently, some ground will go ungrazed for the next 4-6 weeks and we’ll skip around on cool days.  Today was 97 degrees.   Two days from now they are calling for 85.  Skipping around will get us through the worst of it.  I’m glad I have pasture in reserve.  I’m glad I bought several extra water tanks.  I’m glad I didn’t cut down all of the hedge trees out there.  I’m glad I under-stocked my farm leaving me with options to handle heat stress and inexperience.  Unfortunately, the cows are translocating nutrients from the top of the hill to the bottom of the hill, where the trees are.  That’s not desirable…but we’ll work with what we’ve got and plant more trees in coming years.

Two other notes:

1. The neighbor’s cows are all pretending to be hippopotami to deal with the heat and flies, especially the ones without black hides.
2. The Jersey cows don’t seem to notice the heat.  They graze all day.

One final note, much of this thinking carries through well to pet dogs…if that’s what you have for livestock.