Author Archives: Homesteader's Supply

Correcting contracted tendons in new born calves

Our mix breed beef heifer was bred by our mini Jersey bull before he found a new home on a ranch breeding heifers for first calf size desires. Anyway, after 24 hours she still could not stand on her front two hooves. Come to find out the tendons were contracted and restricting the ability for her to extend her hooves and put weight on them.

I called our livestock vet (he’s another hero in my life) and talked to him about the issues. He explained that he’d seen this before and had an easy fix if dealt with right away. He advised us to take a magazine and tube it up as a splint, then use vet wrap to secure it to the front legs. Then, on his way home from another call, he stopped by and gave our new little girl an injection of Oxtetracycline, explaining that too much calcium in momma’s system created a build up of calcium on the tendon. The Oxtetracycline binds to the calcium attached onto the tendon and allows it to stretch out and become flexible again. Typically, it should only take the one injection to pull the excess calcium away from the tendons. If in three days her legs aren’t completely straight and she’s not standing on her hooves properly, then a second injection may be needed. The splints force her to put the weight on her hooves instead of her first joint. She got her injection last night and we used a Cabella’s magazine cut in half as splints, then vet wrapped them around her legs from just above the first joint down to the bottom of her hooves. So far, she’s putting weight on her hooves and with any luck will have the splints off tomorrow or the next day.

I did some reading and found out that this can also happen to foals, kids, and many other live stock varities. All seem to respond to the same treatment. The dosage of antibiotic varies on the breed and size of livestock so please consult your vet before guessing and injecting too much. A too large of injection can cause the heart to stop which is a sad outcome for all involved!

Best of luck to all of you homesteaders and wish us luck on our new baby girl!

Thelma and Louise – the characters!

I had two beef heifers named Thelma and Louise… Bet you’re wondering why I would name my beef cattle after movie characters and not food names… Well, living in Arizona… and knowing that they too will die in the end… the names just seemed appropriate! I just have to be sure to keep them away from the ol’ Thunderbird and the Grand Canyon so that I can enjoy their gift of meat!

Anyway… enough humor… on to more humor… Yesterday (Labor Day 2008) I was down doing morning chores when a friend stopped by to introduce us to her brother. We were side tracked, talking up a storm when I notice Louise, a Hereford cross, standing with her side to a section of the fence that I’d cut open in the past to let the cattle out into the back 2 acres to graze. I turned just in time to catch Thelma, a Black Angus cross, standing perpendicular to her and you could see the gears turning in her head… You see, just outside of that fence is a coyote fence… which consists of tee posts at 10′ on center running the length of the back pasture fence with six strands of electric fence giving it a height of about five feet. The hot fence runs parallel to the pasture fence but about 3′ outside the fence. This allows the coyote to run the wash out there and if they do become inspired to run and jump the electric fence they will come down between the electric fence and the 4′ field fence with barbed wire running 6″ above that. Coyote can’t jump 4 feet while standing still… they have to run at it to clear it… so once they clear the hot fence, they usually come down hitting their head into the field fence and then have to get back through the hot fence to get away… After a few zaps… they usually don’t return! Anyway… I digress…and apologize for doing so…

So, there stands Thelma with her eyes on the green grass out in the wash… Mind you we’re standing there yaking up a storm and haven’t yet fed the hay…. The next thing I know… Thelma is barreling towards Louise, head down like an experienced spanish bull… and PLOWS into Louise, lifting her off the ground and THROUGH the field fence as well as the six strands of Hot fence. Poor Louise landed out in the field bewildered as to what had just happened… Luckily, we had shut the hot fence off before starting chores or I fear we’d have had a whole lot more to fix then the six connections and the 10′ section of field fence…

Well, rather than chase Louise all around trying to get her back in and keep the others from getting out… we just let them all go out and graze until we tossed hay… then, of coarse, they all came running in… except Louise… who was too scared to go near the fence. After a little calling and a bit of herding we were able to get her in for breakfast… but it was a good lesson to feed the cows first and visit with the company after…

Hope you enjoyed the chuckle as much as we did… once the fencing was all fixed…

Have a great day…

Nance

Medicated Chicken Starter… It’s for the birds… And ONLY THE BIRDS!!!!!!!!!!

‘For Sale… somewhat skinny 22 year old Appaloosa gelding’ I read in the local newspaper. Something tugged at me and before I knew it I had an appointment to see him later that day.

I climbed out of my car and couldn’t believe my eyes. ‘Somewhat skinny’ was the understatement of the year! I reached into the back seat and retrieved a carrot from the two-pound bag I had purchased on the way over. There is nothing like a carrot for a first introduction! I opened the gate and sloshed through the several inch deep urine and manure over to where the gelding stood.

“Hey there boy…” I said as I approached the breathing skeletal structure that stood before me. I touched his rib cage, realizing I could easily put my fingers around each rib with the slightest of pressure. The gelding turned to look at me, smelling the treat I had in my hand. Breaking off a small piece of carrot brought the ears of the gelding to attention. He pivoted around to face me, gentling using his lips to retrieve the carrot piece from my outstretched palm. He chewed with the care of a food critic, savoring the flavors as they danced on his palate. The gelding stepped closer to me and proceeded to bury his head into my chest while releasing a soft nicker. Needless to say, I paid for the horse and took him home.

His name was Jake. It was January and exceptionally cold for the time of year in the high desert mountains of Arizona. I called my vet and explained to him what I had. He gave me a list of supplements I would need if I were to give this horse any quality of life. I stopped by the vet office the next day and picked up a delayed release wormer along with a supplement called ‘Horse Back’ which is specifically formulated for emaciated horses. Jake had become accustom to sustaining life on very little hay and lots of dirt. My next stop was the feed store for Equine Senior, Red Cell and Psyllium pellets to remove the sand from his colon. He wasn’t used to food so I needed to go slow as not to kill him with kindness. I started off with a warm mash of Equine senior, the first dose of wormer and some Red Cell. Psyllium would be a part of his evening feeding ritual. I fed Jake a handful or two of mash, then give him some time to digest it a bit. Once it settled well I would give him another handful. Once or twice a week for the first few weeks he would colic and we would walk together for hours until his bowels moved. Sand in the colon, mixed with worms was the toughest thing to overcome in the beginning. I turned my garage into a barn for Jake. He had no fat on him or a winter coat for that matter in order to retain any body heat. I wanted him to use his food to put weight on as opposed to simply stay skinny and somewhat warm. I spread out two bales of straw, which gave a nice eight-inch base and wrapped him up in my Percheron’s heavy-duty horse blanket. It seemed to do the trick. Jake would spend his days in the pasture with my other two horses and run to the gate in the evening when I asked him if he was ready to go into his house. I never had to halter him for this short walk. I’d open the gate and he happily trotted directly into his house, eagerly awaiting his mash, timothy grass and his blanket. Gradually Jake was managing to gain weight.

Over time his spirit brightened too as he added several hundred pounds of body mass. Together we started taking short rides onto state land. He loved to go exploring. When he saw me with his halter and a lead rope he ran to the gate and nickered with excitement. Once healthy again, Jake was a gentle sweetheart who could touch the soul of anyone near him.

So, naturally I moved on to the next project on my farm to do list. I wanted chickens! When spring approached I went to the feed store to purchase baby chicks. Of course I went completely over board and ended up with seventy day-old chicks in my laundry room and two bags of pasture grass seeds to plant for the horses. I proceeded to build a brooder outside and moved the chicks into their new home because it became impossible to do laundry with that many baby chicks jumping in Rubbermaid tubs and chirping in their loud ‘There’s a monster in the room’ voices. Now they had space and a glow light to keep them warm in the cool evening temperatures, lots of water along with the recommended medicated chick starter. I kept this in an emptied kitty litter pail so it would be easy to feed each day.

A month later or so I came home from work to find that the horses had decided that the pasture was boring. One of the five horses had opened the gate and let everyone out in the yard to play. The two bags of pasture grass that I bought with the baby chicks (and had yet to plant) were now shredded empty plastic remnants strewn all around the porch. The kitty litter pail was tipped over and empty. I found the lid under a Juniper tree about fifty feet away. The big kids had made a big mess. I cleaned everything up and did the evening chores thinking nothing else of it.

The next day I was watching Jake in the pasture and he started to urinate. It started out cloudy yellow as normal, and then became pink followed by thick red blood. Naturally, I was panicked – this was my sweet boy! I ran up to the house and grabbed a small Tupperware container with a lid and collected a sample for the vet.

The vet called me a short while later. “It’s probably cancer. Appy’s are known to get cancer in that region. If you would like I can come out and put him down for you.” He offered.

“Absolutely not! We went for a ride day before yesterday and he was great. He hasn’t dropped weight, has a great appetite, how can it be cancer?” I replied.

“That’s my best guess. I didn’t send the sample to the lab and have since disposed of it.” He answered.

“Thanks for your time.” I said sarcastically before hanging up.

Cancer didn’t seem possible. It shows up over time, not overnight! I started to dig on the Internet. Searches for ‘Horse with bloody urine’ didn’t offer much. As I was falling to sleep that night I recalled the day the horses got out. I jumped out of bed and went back online. ‘Horse got into the chicken feed’ I typed into Yahoo search. The screen filled with links to websites. As it turns out, medicated chick started has an ingredient called monensin to control intestinal parasites in chicks. A horse’s metabolism is much slower than chickens. None of the other horses had the symptoms so as best as I can guess, Jake decided he liked chick starter. According to the article I found and conversations with Dr. O on HorseAdvise.com the monensin attacks the diaphragm, kidneys, heart and muscles. It wasn’t blood in Jakes urine, but muscle that had been attacked by the toxins in monensin. There is no treatment for a poisoning of this nature except time and hope. The ingredient monensin is also in some cattle and pig feeds. According to a study done by the government, if Jake could hold on for twenty-eight days he possibly had a chance of pulling through the poisoning. After two days, Jake lost his appetite. He would simply refuse to drink and stood with his hooves spread far apart for balance. His head hung very low as he began to drop weight. The spirit was once again missing from his eyes. I won’t go into the awful details of his struggle, but at day eighteen he began to perk up a bit. He started eating and drinking more though his head still hung low. His small step forward quickly became a giant leap back and I had to have Jake put down on day twenty-one. His gums became a dark blue purple and he simply collapsed. Jake had no more fight in him and his body was already damaged from being severely emaciated.

I share this very personal story in hopes that it educates other horse owners out there. Please be sure that all cow, pig or chicken feed is locked away from the reach of curious horses. The stuff tastes great to them and if accessible they will eat their fill. It’s my goal that no other horse owners have to go through the heartbreak of putting down their best buddy.

Information found on this type of poisoning is available by searching ‘Accidental ingestion of toxic substances is usually the cause of poisoning in horses’ on Thoroughbred Times.com or by searching ‘Horse got into the Chicken Feed’ on HorseAdvice.com.

A Desire for a simple life…

Isn’t it perplexing that the progress of today’s society leaves one feeling empty and unfulfilled? What with speeding traffic, cell phones, pagers and fully booked time schedules we are left at the end of the day wondering what it is we are doing all of this for. At least I am. Is it for the money, the prestige, the ability to say at the end of my life that “I was able to work to the point of exhaustion every single day of my life for these few material possessions?” What material possessions… a home that I don’t even own… a piece of land that I rent from the state and must ask permission before I make any changes? At what cost? What price to I pay and do those who crave time with me pay for my successes? Can I truly call that which I accomplish a success? Is it successful to go to bed at the end of the day feeling that everyone else owns my time but me? I have approximately fifteen wakeful hours per day, that’s seventy five waking hours per work week. My employer owns forty five hours of my time not including the hour drive to and from work… Of that fifty five total hours of employer owned time – ninety five percent of the earnings are contributed to the utilities companies, the mortgage, the bills, the groceries, the taxes… gasoline for the car so I can return to work the next day… and the list goes on and on… The remaining twenty hours of wakeful time in my Monday through Friday work week are spent doing all that needs done for those who do or don’t work such as laundry, dishes, house cleaning, cooking and tending other daily chores like milking the cow, feeding the livestock and on and on… Mind you, I don’t mind working hard for what I have. I simply don’t want to be told that I have to be part of the ‘rat race’ to exist today. However, looking at how society exists at this present time one must… I must play the game.
Whatever happened to the simpler life, the ability to purchase a piece of property and truly work the land to see a benefit at the end of the season? It’s a trade off really… I trade that ability to my employer for a pay check. Instead of planting my garden and slaughtering my cow I trade that pay check to the grocery store for my food. Food that is processed and irradiated to last longer on the shelf than it would had it come from my garden or my gun… I trade my pay check for the right to live in a home by paying the mortgage and the utilities. Can I do with out the utilities? Sure I could, but society would deem me an unfit parent to have my home lit by candle and cook my dinner on an open flame each evening, besides… who has the time? Could I do with out the home? I could… but the state won’t let me live on undeveloped land. It’s against county code. I could build a rustic cabin, put in a septic tank and a well all powered by solar energy but that still wouldn’t suffice… because then I have to pay and maintain that which keeps me in good standing for county code… back to the rat race I go…
So, it is with these thoughts, a heavy heart and frustration that I accept my role in today’s society all the while closing my eyes each night dreaming of something simpler…

N.J. Sparks
3/17/2005