Sunday, September 11, 2011


I was at a family wedding Saturday night, and I got a lot of questions about the welfare of the bloated calf. (Isn't that what you talk about at a wedding?)

After she bloated a few times, Kris separated her from the rest of the cattle and moved her into the old calf barn. He fed her only hay, instead of hay and grain like the rest of them her age were eating. She hasn't bloated since.

She is, however, lonely, which she lets us know by mooing a lot. Kris is going to move her back with her peers this next week when he's moving them onto TMR, which stands for total mix ration. It's a mix of silage, hay, grain, and minerals. She'll be happier to be with the herd and will hopefully not bloat anymore.

Apparently this is such a common topic of conversation, that after we eat my sons often take turns saying to each other: "Look at my stomach. I'm bloated," and stick their stomachs way out. The other one will poke his stomach with his finger, saying, "I'm going to deflate you." Then they suck their stomachs way in.

It was a beautiful wedding, super fun to see my family, and the tasty dinner ended with a wonderful surprise. Ice cream sundaes!

If only poking a finger into your stomach really made it deflate ...

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