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She Who Will Not Be Named's Grandson

These past few weeks have been tough for our family. Our pendulum is swinging. My husband's family lost a beloved cousin who lost her battle with cancer. We were fortunate to visit prior to her passing and have been able to spend time with everyone as her life is celebrated and remembered. Fortunately all the animals are healthy and thriving. This past weekend we hosted cousins who needed to get away and get their minds off funeral plans and focus on all the critters. Lots of egg packing, incubator settings, pasture rotation, puppy and chick handling.

Since we had a steer scheduled for processing it was time to weigh all the steers. We moved everyone back to the working pens and started the process of running the steers through the chutes. Once all were weighed and gains were calculated we separated them into groups of the 5 biggest vs the 5 smallest so we can keep them on the freshest pastures with the most grass. As were were loading up the steers to take them back to their pastures Mom and I decided we should cut one of the steers and take them to the sales barn due to slow gains. We knew he was out of a first calf heifer and first calves tend to be smaller and do not reach the gains we desire in the time allotted on grass alone.

The steers were lined up in the chute ready to be loaded up to be trailered back to their pastures. So we backed him up so we could redirect him through a gate and move him into the holding pens. And that was when I made my error, Rather than going all the way around to open the gate I decided to jump down in the chute to switch the gate from being open to go straight vs turning right. At the same moment I jumped down Mom closed the gate behind him so the only direction he could move was forward and he went right over the top of me. So there I was squished into the muck and dirt, Mom screaming my name, our guests dazed and I was still in the chute and able to be trampled again so I jumped up like I won an award saying "I'm Fine". Needless to say I did not quit this endeavor, the steer was cut and delivered to the sales barn, After investigating his lineage we learned that he is the Grandson of my nemesis #144 "She Who Will Not Be Named", sadly it made sense. The cow and her progeny are failing their docility score. I am purple from my shoulder to my hip but nothing is broken.

We will be at Loblolly Saturday March 4th and back to the Jersey Village Market and Sunday March 5th.

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