The Spring STORM

By Blair Stringam

When I was 13, my father sold his ranch in Milk River, Alberta, and bought a ranch up near Fort Macleod, Alberta about 120 miles away.

We went through the arduous task of loading up all of the equipment including tractors, bailers, cultivators, swathers, hay rakes, livestock equipment, saddles, bridles, shop tools, shop tools, shop tools (hey, we needed shop tools to keep me busy on the long winter evenings), horses, snow mobiles…oh, and of course cows for the new ranch. We were very excited for our new adventure.

Now one thing that we often experience in our area in the spring are sudden snow storms.

When we unloaded our cows, we had deposited them in a large open field where the grass was growing well and would keep them happily fed until we could get everything else moved in.

Then came the storm.

It changed our priorities for a few days.

Because the cows were in an open field, the storm pushed them down to the fence at the far end. There they huddled together trying to keep warm.

Many of the cows had delivered their calves and the new calves were struggling even more to keep warm.

To quote an old saying, this wasn’t our first rodeo. We knew we had to get the cows and calves to shelter fast.

And feed them large quantities of hay.

On our new ranch, we had a field with many trees growing in it. We called it the tree field (creative name eh?). It was an ideal location for the much-needed shelter.

We loaded the trucks with hay, then opened the gates where the cows were located and, with the cows eagerly following, drove to the field where they were fed and finally able to find shelter.

Sadly, there were a handful of calves just too cold to make the trip.

We picked them up and brought them to the homestead where my little sister, Anita had set up a ‘calf emergency room’ with heaters, blankets and bottles of milk supplement. She also had a check-in booklet with the calves’ identification and description of their aliments (ie. calf is chilled).

Unfortunately, despite our best efforts and prayers, 2 or 3 calves simply were not able to recover.

Then followed the very worst thing about ranching.

Their breathing would become fainter and then they would give one last devastating ‘bahhh’ and die.

It was heartbreaking.

And a stark reminder of how hard ranch life can be.

We had to take comfort in the reminder that the vast majority of calves survived and were comfortably lounging in the tree field with their mamas.

In the next few days, as the snow melted, I was reassured as I rode through the pasture to check on the cows.

The surviving calves would get up as I rode by and leisurely stretch while their mamas watched casually.

The grass was especially green from the moisture of the snow, the air was fresh and cool and the smell of sage was distinct and strong.

Almost, I could forget the tragedies and be reminded just why growing up on a ranch was a blessing.