Shifting a mob of rising 2-year-old bulls a few days ago I spotted one of their mates had got himself well bogged in a very inaccessible spot.
I went and had a close inspection and reckoned I could extract the fellow with some success but would need some help. With only a few days to go until the end of the financial year and no cattle deaths I was keen to keep the slate clean.
One set of neighbours have an extremely useful 50-metre wire rope I’d borrowed previously for a long-distance rescue and they kindly lent it to me again.
My own ancient and small tractor was down at the bottom farm but Dan up the road willingly agreed to come and give me a hand with his big machine. Isn’t it great having good neighbours?
I had to semi-immerse myself in the very cold water to get a strap down beneath his brisket and push it through the mud. But this 550kg bull was worth about $1500 and from an animal welfare perspective needed some help so both bull and I were keen to improve his circumstances.
That old Toyota bugger ad where the participants had put their rope around the head of a stuck beast and possibly dislodged the head might not play nowadays, being somewhat inappropriate, but trained a whole generation of us in how not to do it.
I stood up on the bank to monitor the progress and to signal Dan. The bull slid out surprisingly easily and I signalled a stop. We debated whether to drag him up the hill but I thought he’d probably had enough drama for the time being. Dan was doubtful and I should have deferred to his better wisdom.
We removed the strop and encouraged our mate to stand up but he was cold and keen to sit for a while. I thanked Dan as he left to do his own chores and went home to get some meds.
I made a great brew of hot water, ketol and electrolytes, which he gladly slurped down, and gave him a bag of glucophos for good measure. I promised him I’d be back later in the evening.
At 9pm I shone the torch down into the gully hoping the bull had up and disappeared but he was still there and had tried to get up and almost managed to get himself back in the hole from whence he’d come.
I warmed him up with my homemade hot brew then encouraged him to get up, which he almost did with me supporting him. We’d almost made it but I could feel him falling in my direction. My 80kg was manfully doing its very best but this wasn’t going to end well.
I had a vision of the beast falling on top of me and it would be my turn to be stuck in the dark and in the cold water and though I’d told Jane what I was doing on a cold dark night, I hadn’t been entirely specific where it was I was going. On the positive side, it probably wouldn’t make much difference as I wouldn’t have suffered too long.
So, I eased him down then dragged a log to prop beside him to prevent another re-entry into the hole. I got him comfortable and to keep him warm put an old blanket held down with a tarpaulin.
A mate had once told me how, in the early weeks of his marriage, he’d spent a very long and cold night under a tarp with a prized stud bull in a bid to keep it warm. His townie bride must have wondered what was next.
I’m a good shepherd but there are limits.
The next day I had a visit from a vet and after an examination she recommended euthanisation, which we duly did, and the saga was at an end.
