We loaded up some cows to take to the sale barn up in St. Onge (my etymology:St. Onge->Sainte Ange->Holy Angel) today. 6 cows, three calves: no problem, right? They are in our creek bottom, and the creek is very high, almost impassibly so. And of course they got pushed in the wrong direction and ended up on the opposite side of the creek. I managed to eek my 4-wheeler across our washed-out crossing, but getting them back across was challenging. The grass was wet, the cows were feeling good in the cool weather, and the chase was on. I thought we finally had them so they'd go down to the crossing, but my father was talking on his cell phone and they went the opposite way I wanted them to. Ridiculous. I was so pissed at him, I left and went back to the house. I wasn't sure if I was going back. I played a little piano downstairs, and then decided that that was about fair; if he could take a cell phone break in the middle of moving cows, then I could take a piano break. I came back refreshed and substantially less angry. The cows were still uncooperative, primarily because they were being led by the cow-bitch number 202 again. I'll be glad when she's gone, but we're keeping her till the fall, apparently. Since she has twins, we need to keep her with the herd so the calves have a chance to grow up on milk stolen from the rest of the herd.
We loaded some of our cows and some of the neighbors' on our trailer and my father took off. This afternoon, that neighbor, Chris McFarland, needed to brand three of his calves, the youngest and latest of the season. My mother and I went to help. We poured and preg-guarded two of the cows: the pour-on is for parasites and the preg-guard is vaccine to protect against common bovine pregnancy diseases and disorders. Pretty painless. They bawl and complain when you stick them with the needle, but that sort of pain is easily justified in the scheme of things.
We started up the propane torch to heat the irons and filled the vaccine guns. The three calves each got three shots, a fly-preventing ear tag, and a brand. In South Dakota, branding is the only state-regulated way of identifying cattle. Each owner registers a brand, the cost of which varies based in part on its simplicity and its location on the animal. Some locations keep more of the hide intact and rest over less-desirable cuts of meat--these increase sale value; others require several different 'pieces' to complete and thus slows down the branding process. I have had friends complain that such practices are inhumane or a form of cruel and unusual punishment. In a sense, they are right; these practices are inhumane, certainly inappropriate for human application. They are also correct that it is painful. I can only justify it by making reference to my basic presuppositions: animals are rightfully and ethically owned, sold, and traded; and owners have a right to protect their property. No perfectly effective alternative to branding has yet arisen that protects both these principles.
There was a movement toward an RFID system for cattle, swine, and poultry a couple years ago; it encountered strong opposition on two grounds: the increased bookkeeping and equipment costs and its inability to completely deter theft. RFID tags would be somehow inserted into the body of the animal, probably the ear, and so it is not even very difficult for someone after some free cattle to load them out of a field, take them home, and cut the RFIDs out of their ears.
In recounting how we castrate bull calves to someone I met recently, she said she didn't want to hear about it. I simply said that I simply wanted to explain to her the world we live in, the real world. Idealistically, she retorted that no world in which animals must be brutalized was the real world. Well, idealistically, sure. In an ideal world, there would be no theft, we would need no identifying marks on our property, and cows would only breed when we want them to with the cows we want them to. For another sense of the word "real," though, her world is very much not real. Maybe we should work harder to make those two worlds the same. That criticism I can understand. But it does no good to ignore the current truth of the situation; that is not how we move toward a more humane world for both people and animals. Where we are is not really up for debate; it must be recounted frankly and truthfully. After that, there are only two things that can be productively debated if we want to change the way things are: where we want to end up, and the way we should get there.
Those calves we branded today will not be irrevocably damaged by what happened to them today. The vast majority we emerge as calm, well-tempered steers and cows. Cows do no brood over pain the way people do; I would argue that they lack the self-reflective capability to really experience pain the way human beings do. As best as I can tell, this has been the case in my interaction with cattle over the years, but I'm sure many disagree. Many actively anthropomorphize animals and see that as a good thing. For me, though, my tendency is the opposite. Since we own and trade animals, I tend to want to emphasize the differences between them and people. Psychologically, it helps me deal with and live out the things we have to do with them to make a living.
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