The Chattel Farmer

Ch 12 The Calves

In the lobby area, Mr. Farber gets into the little fridge and hands me a meal in a covered dish. “You look like you could use a break. Why don’t you eat this in your apartment and meet me back here in 20 minutes? I hate to have such a short lunch but the milking can’t wait.” I take my meal up the stairs. The fresh salad is a treat. Even with my mind so distracted and confused, I recognize that the food is delicious. Mary really can cook. Which leads me to thoughts about Mary and how I’d like to get to know her better. While checking my phone, I see that I’ve got a “good luck on your first day” message from my mom. Remembering that I forgot to ask her about her last name being the same as the farm, I shoot her a message back about the name thing. I’d like to know if I’m getting a crush on my cousin! My thoughts are still circling around with no answers. The twenty minute lunch is over before I know it and I head down the stairs.

I follow Mr. Farber into the milking room. I’m glad he doesn’t seem chatty right now. The chattel are coming in from different pastures to the indoor pasture to eat and to get milked. I’m much more familiar with the milking routine and where all the equipment is located so I’m able to move faster. Of course, I’m not as fast as Mr. Farber but he’s been doing this most of his life. As I’m connecting Dorothy, a lovely red head, to the pump, I notice something doesn’t look right on her right n****e. “Mr. Farber, can you look at this n****e?” He comes right over and examines it. “Good catch, Aaron. I think this is a scratch from something out in the pasture but I could turn into a serious issue without treatment. On the data port, log it like this. . .Over in this drawer are simple medicines that you might need for minor issues. We’ll sanitize it with this wipe then put a liquid bandage over the area, which will still allow her to be milked. When she comes back for milking tonight, an alert will pop on the ‘port. Call me over if you’re the one milking her.” Before I know it, all the chattel have been milked and sent back out to the pastures to enjoy the beautiful summer day.

Mr. Farber leads me over to the delivery doors in the feed room. Outside are several boxes of fresh peaches, but they’re ugly. Not perfect looking like what I’m used to seeing in the city. “These are second quality peaches from my neighbor’s farm. This type of fruit usually goes into food that is cooked like pie or jam. It’s cheaper than the perfect looking first quality that goes on our table. I get a great deal on it and the chattel love fresh treats like this.” We work together to load the boxes onto a little flat bed robot car. Half the boxes are unloaded into a chilled storage area in the feed room. Then I follow Mr. Farber to a pasture. I really haven’t had a good look at them before now.

I scan the code by the door to the pasture, then Mr. Farber shows me where to log Feed, and I add one box of peaches. He points out the feeding troughs and I carry the box over and put some peaches in each trough. This one is fairly narrow but deep. Towards the back is a huge tree. Most of the chattel started out under the tree, but most of them are headed towards the troughs. This routine repeats several times. The pastures all seem to be narrow so they connect to a door on the barn but deep to give lots of space to spread out. Each pasture has something different. I saw shallow pools, solar panels on top of shade structures, and various enrichment activities aka toys.

We’ve just about circled the entire barn and there are only a couple of boxes left on the little cart that has been faithfully following behind Mr. Farber. “This pasture is where the heifers are, and the next pasture is the calves.” Looking at the chattel, I can tell that they’re not producing milk because their breasts are not nearly as large as the milking chattel. I spot Nettie coming towards the troughs where I’m spreading the peaches out. Next to her is a brunette chattel that causes me to double take. Compared to the other heifers, her breasts are fuller but what really caused me to stare is her swollen belly. Walking back to the gate with the empty box, I catch Mr. Farber’s eye. “What’s wrong with that heifer?” Mr. Farber chuckles a little, “Aaron, that heifer should have a calf in a couple of weeks! The pregnant heifers are here too.” I look around the pasture again and notice a few more rounded bellies.

The calf pasture was next. “Aaron, Duke is in with the calves right now. He has his own small pasture but he spends a lot of time with the calves. Remember to move slowly and keep an eye on the bull. Duke had a busy morning so he shouldn’t give you any trouble.” This pasture has more toys then the other ones I’ve seen and some of the calves were tugging on a rope toy. The calves looked like pre-teen girls with short cropped hair, no hips, and little buds on a lanky frame. It was more uncomfortable to look at the naked calves than the other chattel. “Mr. Farber, the hand book didn’t mention calves. What would my job be with the calves?” He gave me a considering look. “Do you like the calves and want to spend time with them?” The question rolls around my mind and I realize what sick thing he’s getting at. Disgust dripping from my voice “Absolutely not. If this job requires that I treat the calves like the heifers earlier then I quit right now.”

Mr. Farber clapped his hand onto my shoulder. “Aaron, that’s exactly the response I wanted to hear. On this farm, calves need fed, basic grooming such as hair trimming, and basic command training. On rainy days, I use treats to teach them to walk on a leash and simple commands like ‘Up’, and basically make sure they like and trust me.” My shoulders sag in relief. “Where are the calves before they’re this size?” Mr. Farber picks up a box of peaches. “Get another box, Aaron. These calves eat like you wouldn’t believe. In twelve to eighteen months, they’ll be in the heifer pasture. After a calf is born, it’s transported to a chattel nursery. I pull the calves I want for my milking herd earlier than many farms, but I find it more cost effective for them to spend a year or so here with the bull than in the nursery.” We finish putting the peaches out. The calves were mobbing the troughs, but I noticed many of them gave the farmer an affectionate head bump or rubbed against his legs before attacking the peaches. Duke the bull stayed under the tree but he was watching everything. “Mr. Farber, is Duke nice to the calves?” He shut the gate behind us. “Oh, yes. He’s very protective and playful with them. It’s something I wanted in my stud bull. Unlike the bulls that my father trained.” I thought about asking about that but looking at his face I guessed it was a painful memory so I didn’t say anything.