Branded!
Why we brand and how it smells!
(Not a story for the faint-hearted, or weak-stomached vegetarians)
(Not a story for the faint-hearted, or weak-stomached vegetarians)
But where do I belong?It’s one of those facts of life, that on cattle properties, calves get branded. Otherwise, other less-scrupulous people would help themselves to our livelihood – not a tempting option.
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It’s one of the most important duties we carry out here – at Branding, we not only make sure these little bovines are clearly idenified to their mob, mum and owner, they get special little electronic eartags that label them for the rest of their lives and make Australia among the best regulated meat-producing nations in the world. Called an NLIS tag, it ensures complete tracability in the event of any problems (like Mad Cow Disease). In plain speak, it helps keep our beef clean and safe. The poddies also get special innoculations against nasty calf-targetting illness such as Black Leg. Also any injuries are treated and those who need it get antibiotics to help recovery. Branding, if you haven’t cottoned on yet, is Serious Stuff.
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As a child, I loved Branding. For all the wrong reasons. I grew up with it, so the sights and smells and sounds of Branding were as familiar as the summer rains and the wattle blooms around our house. I particularly loved the smells of branding – the burning hair and the horse sweat. I know the former is not politically correct, but there it is. Country kids are practical, earthy little creatures.
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Naturally, I did worry about whether the calves were being badly hurt, as Dad and my uncle Tex worked rhythmically at the Branding Cradle to stamp, dehorn and earmark each young animal. They smiled and pointed at an older calf, branded a few weeks earlier and asked they looked too unhappy. The calf would be contentedly suckling its mother in the next yard and looking as if it hadn’t a care in the world. Apparently cattle have short memories!
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While I was concerned for the welfare of the poddies, I was fascinated by the assorted tools and ‘gems’ produced by the branding process. When I was deemed old enough, I was honoured with the “brand getting” job: I would select the red-hot brand from the wood fire (set up in an old cutout 44 gallon drum nearby) and pass it to Tex (by the handle!) and wait til he had applied it to the rump of the calf, then return it (handle first if I was lucky); also getting the pliers to Dad for earmarking. Another kids’ job was to add wood to the drum as the fire died down, taking care not to knock the brands into the blaze – a red hot handle is not appreciated by the brander!
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Afterwards, as the men cleaned up and sent the calves back to their relieved mums, I would trawl through the bits of horn and ear for the prettiest bit and stuff them in my pocket. I am serious. Mum would exclaim as she extracted these gruesome bits of ‘treasure’ from her wash. I have no idea what I intended to do with them – they were my little trophies, I guess. And the brindle (stripey) ones were really quite pretty. (OK perhaps you have to be a bush girl to understand!)
This Branding has seen the legacy passed on. SSB brings the calves up the race to the cradle, where they are caught in steel “trap” and lowered onto rubber tyres on the ground. Dash happily runs the eartag pliers to his grandpa, who injects each calf, gives them white ‘earrings’, my brother handles the brands and castrating, while my SIL and I take notes, scan earbuttons and assess calves for colour correctness, conformation, type and age. 
The wood fire has been replaced by a gas burner with a much more even and reliable heat. Technology has made Branding way more busy and intensive and involves enormous amounts of (computerised) book work and various software programs. The procedure for each calf takes between 30 seconds and 2 minutes.
The wood fire has been replaced by a gas burner with a much more even and reliable heat. Technology has made Branding way more busy and intensive and involves enormous amounts of (computerised) book work and various software programs. The procedure for each calf takes between 30 seconds and 2 minutes. …
But the really amazing (weird) thing is that Dash loves to collect the same Branding Trophies as his Ma! He is really a city boy, having only been here at Granite Glen for 12 months. But he has taken to ear-piece-foraging like a duck to water. And his mum finds the treasures in his pockets (before the wash!). Do we learn squeamishness about such things later in life, or is it inherent? 
The Little Woman, as expected, is completely unfazed by the entire process and is a self-appointed “poker up” of the calves. Armed with a yellow yard stick (rubber) she waves it around and encourages the more obstinate brand-ees with “Come ON Poddy’. I’m not sure the calves take any notice but LW is involved and happy. God bless her!
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The one who IS charged with getting the calves to their date with the cradle, however, is a little less content at the end of each long, hot day. We are currently exploring the ways and means of keeping SSB’s shins from serious bruising as the “race man”. It seems not all calves are as keen as they might be to walk calmly towards the branding irons. (Go figure). And they take it out on SSB (just not fair) who is currently sporting several major shin swellings and bruises up one side from a high-jumping poddy who attempted to fly the coop. (Kamikaze calf… an executive meeting decided he should add to the prairie oyster pile!) Bruises and lost testicles weren’t the only fallout from his wild eyed craziness, a gate also required some on-the-run repairs (below).
But it’s SSB’s shins that are copping a real battering. We tried some cricket pads – not a cool look, and hell on already bruised shins apparently. Americans swear by chaps (leather leg covers with sexy fringes around the side – I wouldn’t mind seeing SSB in them actually). They are not really standard practice in Australia, at least in this region, where calves are not roped and ‘cowboys’ dress only for the rodeo arena.
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And the mucky jeans are something to behold. Now I don’t claim to be that fond of the smell of cow manure – its sweet enough I guess, but a bit overpowering. Especially over the laundry tub every night as you soak worst of it off the day’s jeans, before consigning them to the washing machine. Gross. Even for a country gal.
See what I mean.
(Are you looking at the muck? OK, me neither!).
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Now for those vegetarians who have completely given up on me, but are still reading like rabbits caught in the headlights, here is a little light relief, captured on SSB’s mucky jeans as we had smoko…
Anyway, my friends, this is enough of an introductory entry on the fine art of branding, Queensland-style. Otherwise we’ll be here all night. (And lord knows I need my beauty sleep. Not that the cows care. And you, no doubt, need to regroup and breathe.) Much more, of course happens in the Branding process (but I think we have all the bellowy bits basically covered though). 
May your day be free of Kamikaze calves, your muscles ready for sleep after an honest day’s work, and your pockets cleared before you wash!
Bush Babe
4 Comments
jeanie
Good shots – by the calves too (sorry SSB).
You have missed, however (and I hope you will include it for the next exciting chapter) the true drama of the situation – the mothers!
Anonymous
I used to do the branding around here, now that the boys are older they do and I stay home to paint my toenails red! We have an electric brand. Not as fun as having a fire but quick anyway.
And now a request from a total stranger. The next time you’re around the horses with your camera please photograph the saddles. I’d love to see a real aussie saddle, I’m afraid mine is a poor imitation.
Remudamom
Raising Country Kids
“Country kids are practical, earthy little creatures.”
Love that quote! I witness it on a daily basis!
Yours is the first blog I’ve encountered that feels like “home.” Funny that it’s from Australia, which is rather far away from my actual home!
Bush Babe (of Granite Glen)
Erin (Raising Country Kids) you make me blush! What a lovely thing to say… we truly live in the global village don’t we? All the decades the lives of country kids in Oz and the US have been parallel, we just didn;t know it til now! Rmudamom – stay tuned for a little story on our saddleroom (with pic of a stock saddle just for you!).
Keep Smilin
Bush Babe xx