Part of ranch life is death-- a word many of us don't like to use or even read. It's part of all life but a working ranch sees it more regularly and, of necessity, chooses it as part of its operation. There is no alternative; as within any herd, one way or another, some have to go to make room for new life. Much as I can know that, I still never like it.Sometimes I think about getting rid of the rams and bull or all the cows and ewes and not breeding anymore-- just let what we have live out their lives. But then it would deny those animals the full cycle of meaningful life. To me, an organic, growing herd is a place of warmth, training and beauty. When they have those babies, they are so happy and proud. By the time we have to turn those offspring into food for someone else, the mothers are either pregnant or already have had another baby-- with the cows, two more.
Which doesn't mean they don't mind the oldest one being killed. Herds and flocks connect with each other. There are twins. There are those who grew up together. They care and when the time comes we must thin the herds or the grass will disappear, it doesn't make it easier on anybody. The price of caring is facing loss.
Some would say the solution is become a vegan world starting with giving up the traditional turkey for the American Thanksgiving dinner. Except recently, I read they have done tests showing even plants react, with a fear like energy, when they are threatened. Is there anything people can eat that is not alive or wasn't alive? Life begets life and all life comes to an end whether it withers of old age or is taken in its prime. It is the one certainty in this existence that the physical does not last-- which is why many people seek to connect to the spiritual which might. Even with the cows, I wonder, do they come back to repeat this cycle?
Last month we had two calves born. Monday two steers met their end when the mobile slaughter unit arrived. It was not hard on them. One well-placed gunshot to each head and it was done. It was hard on me. It was hard on the herd. Even the sheep flock was upset by it and maybe more than the cows as it happened on their inner ground. An act of violence came to their protected space and even several hours later I could see them in their defensive circle looking toward where it had happened. Today they have forgotten-- or so it would seem.
My consolation comes from knowing the animals have a good life until they don't. Peace with the process comes from knowing we are providing a good food product for many families that is healthier than much of what they can buy-- grass fed beef, killed before it experiences fear or pain, no hormones added, no drugs for this or that, natural and healthy with the same Omega-3s as salmon without things like mercury that ocean fed fish often have or PCBs like farmed fish (which, of course, also have to be killed for us to eat them). Intellectually, I know it's a good thing, but it's a lot easier emotionally on the days when I can watch the herd graze peacefully, playing together, enjoying the many tons of hay at their feeders, than on the days where death comes calling.
So I think about it as I sit by a fire,
feeding it logs that were once living trees and keeping my feet warm with Uggs, which I love as they are like moccasins with soft wool on the inside-- because they were made from a sheep's hide. Yesterday, as I put one of the logs on the fire, I saw a small bug crawl free. For a moment I wondered could I save it, but it jumped into the flames before I could reach for the fireplace tool. Nothing is without cost...(Photo of the herd from last month before the leaves fell. Photo of me-- Monday.)
6 comments:
If I were a meat-eater, I would want to eat the beef that was raised on your land, rain. It is the way of the world that something dies in order for food to be taken. I have often wished it weren't so.
I think that is one of the hardest lessons kids have to learn while growing up. Hamburger and hot dogs don't just come from McDonald's or Safeway. I do eat meat but couldn't be the one "preparing" it. I like to shoot but only at targets, not living things. I guess the old graphic of the bigger fish about to eat a smaller one while yet a bigger one is behind that one is true. As Robin said, it is the way of the world, the way it was designed to operate.
I guess we all know maintaining life's balance in our environment is not only critical, but a very delicate challenge. Seems almost every creature or plant has the potential of providing nourishment for another. I accept that state as being the nature of our planet.
I think we need to be respectful of all life, to not take a life only to waste it. Generally speaking, our Native American Indians, and some additional so-called cruder cultures, seem to understand that concept in ways too many outside those civilizations have not, for a number of generations.
An interesting thought is whether or not we should be at least as considerate of plant life as we are of animal life?
No doubt my attitude has been at least partially formed by the behaviors and views of adults in my life as I was growing up. Some family came from farming background i.e. one member had a dairy farm. We had a variety of creatures and vegetation at various times, also.
I don't eat as much red meat as I once did. I've tried to be more mindful of my mother's admonition, about eating various foods to achieve balance -- moderation in all things.
I'm sure raising cattle on open range as your picture shows, provides a much more natural environment than that to which many poor creatures are subjected. There's little doubt the meat of your cattle would be much healthier for consumers from my point of view.
Well, that was a very different perspective of life and death--one that I appreciate you sharing. I eat meat, not a lot anymore, but I do think about what I eat. My youngest son, who was brought up in a non-hunting and non-violence family has become a hunter--so far birds, but I imagine it will be more later. That is alien to me, but those who hunt seem to do it out of some kind of instinct. And that's a beautiful photo of you in your Uggs by the fire. I love my Uggs, too.
The only animals that don't die violently and in fear are the ones that people have domesticated. Even the ones we kill for food have an easier death than their wild cousins. It is only fair -- they feed us, we need to respect them.
I understand it is the cycle of life. And I respect your respect for the animals you are responsible for. But they are a minority of the meat at our markets, and I wish it were some other way. Judith
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