November brings pregnancy testing. We bring in the heifers and the cows, call for the vet, and learn who is pregnant, and who is not. Our long-time vet, and friend, Warner McFarland, the jefe at Carbon County Veterinary Clinic, came to check the cows. As the cows come through the chute, he palpates, looks at the ultrasound, and calls out “pregnant,” “open,” or “late”.
Each animal goes in with her cohorts to await the next step. Occasionally, we find a cow with a problem that needs attention, such as an errant horn aiming towards her eye. Luckily, Warner carries a saw for just such an occasion, thereby saving the cow’s eye and a whole lot of misery. Thanks, Warner, for all you do!
I once told a cook that we were only really busy in the summer. As the year wore on, he commented “I didn’t know summer lasted until November!”
So here we are in November, and it seems like the fall work just keeps coming. Here’s some pics of cows, calves, ewes, lambs, dogs, horses and folks who help us out.
I mentioned to some acquaintances that I couldn’t attend a Zoom meeting because I was busy moving sheep camp, it became apparent that they had no idea what I was talking about. However, they applied a humorous interpretation, speculating about what sheep camp might entail. They envisioned sheep playing volleyball, rowing boats, perhaps attending a crafts class. . .. All this made me wish that I were a graphic artist and could sketch sheep involved in summer camp activities. Alas–that is not my skill.
What I am actually doing, along with Meghan, is moving the sheep camps (portable homes) as our herders trail the sheep from the Home Ranch environs to fall pastures north of Dixon, Wyoming. These pastures also happen to be our lambing grounds in May and June. When the ewes left here in late June, their lambs were toddlers. They faced down bears and coyotes as they grazed on the Routt and Medicine Bow National Forests in the summer months. The predators exacted their toll, but the sheep were defended by the herders and the Livestock Guardian Dogs (aka Big White Dogs). Now the sheep return with their almost grown lambs. They will graze on fall pastures on Cottonwood Creek until it is time to trail north to winter country on the Red Desert.
Leo on the trail with the sheep
herder, sheep and Baker’s Peak
Loco Creek
guard dog on the job
along the Savery Stock Driveway
coming down the hill
sheep running under trailer parked on the Driveway
It’s that time of year again. We have lots of baby calves who need vaccines, brands and earmarks before they head up to the Forest with their mothers. We have a great crew this year. Everyone knows how to work together to minimize stress on both cattle and people.
The yearling ewes have wintered in the Powder Wash country. We decided to move them some 100 miles or so north, where the running age ewes have spent the winter. We need to have everyone (almost) together for next month’s shearing. We had to start early in the morning to get the trucks loaded and one their way.
loading the trucks at Powder Wash
ewe and lamb near the Bob Terrill corrals
yearling ewes waiting to load
rider keeping an eye on the yearlings
guard dog and yearlings, Powder Mountain
a girl and her dogs
horses and guard dogs, moving too
unloading at Cyclone Rim
yearling exiting the truck
making themselves at home at the Cyclone Rim base camp
Today would be my Dad’s 101st birthday, He’s surely smiling down as Eamon and the boys harnessedup this team to feed the heifers. We have a lot of snow, but it’s been warm, making the snow “boggy.” We got tired of stuck tractors, so Eamon found this beautiful team of Percherons, Chief and Commander. We still have harnesses from the days when we used to feed with Fran and Chub. Eamon, Bubba, Chandler, Tiarnan and Rhen harnessed them, hooked them up to the sled, and fed the heifers, just like in the old days. They didn’t get stuck! Happy birthday, Dad!
Chandler on Cora, waiting for the trucks to unload
We plan to run heifers this coming summer (I have faith that summer is coming). We have hay on hand so decided to bring the heifers in now. They are from South Dakota, and are used to cold and snow. I was happy to see their fuzzy coats.
Today was a Goldilocks Day–not too hot, not too cold, and not windy at all. I took our banker, Kim Brown, from the Yampa Valley Bank in Craig, Colorado out to the Red Desert to take a look a the sheep. Conditions were perfect, with enough snow for the ewes to water on, but not so deep that they couldn’t access the dried grasses which we count on for winter feed. Everyone looked happy–the ewes, the bucks, the dogs, and Pepe, Leo and Guillermo.
Pepe unloading dog food–we buy a pallet a week
guard dog checking us out
a curious Hampshire ram lamb, also checking us out
It’s that time of year again. December rams mean May lambs. A sheep’s gestation is five months less five days, and usually we put rams into the ewe flocks on December 15th. A big snow storm was predicted for the 15th. Since some of the roads are scary, especially I80, we decided to haul bucks on the 14th.
The rams wait all year for these winter weeks. A ewe’s heat cycle occurs every three weeks, so we leave the bucks in for six weeks or so. The rest of the year, they are bachelors (except for the lucky few who get to hang out with the early lambers in October). For a few weeks, it’s all romance, all the time!
Fall days are the time of year when the cattle and the sheep come down from their summer grazing on the the national forests. We bring them all to the Home Ranch, and sort them through the corrals. The ewes bring with them their whole entourage–herders, horses, Border collies, livestock guardian dogs. For a couple of weeks, we manage a rotating menagerie of sheep, dogs and–pigs? We keep a few feeder pigs over the summer to provide winter pork, but in the meantime the pigs consider themselves free-range critters who are likely to show up about anyplace. The guard dogs are suspicious of the pigs, but the pigs don’t care. I am reminded of “Babe” and wonder if we couldn’t train them to herd livestock. They are utterly indifferent to the dogs, who are puzzled by the pigs.
Patrick and Sharon O'Toole are ranchers in the Little Snake River Valley on the Wyoming-Colorado border. They represent the fourth generation on the six-generation family ranch. The O'Tooles raise cattle, sheep, horses, dogs and children on their high country ranching operation. The transhumance operation stretches from north of Steamboat Springs, Colorado to Wyoming's Red Desert.
Pat has served in the Wyoming House of Representatives, the Western Water Policy Commission, and is currently President of the Family Farm Alliance, representing irrigators and water users in the western United States. He is active with several conservation and agricultural organizations.
Sharon is a writer and poet. She writes extensively on western issues, and the relationship between landscape, animals and people. She is widely published as an author, essayist and editorial commentator.
Pat and Sharon have three children. Their daughter, Meghan and her husband Brian Lally, live on the ranch with their children, Siobhán, Seamus, Maeve and Tiarnán. Meghan has also served on the Wyoming Board of Agriculture and the Environmental Quality Council, She and Brian are active in community service.
Daughter Bridget lives in Phoenix with her husband, Chris Abel, where she works in health care communications. Chris works in the food distribution business.
Son Eamon and his wife Megan live on the ranch with their sons, McCoy and Rhen. Eamon is a horseman and natural resource manager, and Megan is a flight nurse. Eamon is a member of the Wyoming Beef Council and is active in the National Cattlemen's Beef Association.
The blog traces the activities and life on the ranch, from the mundane to the fabulous.