“Some must
work in fields if only for the sake of tropes and expression, to serve a
parable maker one day” (qtd. In Kinkead, Funda, McNeill 68). I learned from a
young age the work that goes into serving someone a steak. I don’t mean the
waiter who served it to them, or even the chef who grilled it. I’m talking
about all that goes into preparing that steak while it’s still “on the hoof.” I’ve
spent a great deal of time trying to get those small calves, born at about 80
pounds, to the 1300 pound “fat” ready for slaughter. Much like Henry David
Thoreau’s experience at Walden Pond, I learned a lot about the task I was
engaged in but I learned much more about the world around me.
At three in
the morning it’s time to get up and do the third check of the night on the
pregnant cows that are looking ready to calve. My siblings and I were in charge
of checking the cows every three hours from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. to make sure none
were experiencing any complications with the birth. First calf heifers were
trouble because of their smaller size and often the calf had to be pulled by
putting small chains around its front feet and my brother and I pulling on the
attached handles. One year a calf’s hoof got stuck and was twisted when we
pulled it. This caused it to walk with a bad limp for the rest of its life. My
parents didn’t want to take a cut on the price at sale time, so the calf became
ours to raise.
Its birth
was only the beginning of the work. We used a tube to feed it colostrum because
it was unable to suck. Then we had to supplement electrolytes into its diet. We
kept it in a pen with plenty of straw (the calving season is late February to
April) to keep it warm. Finally after a week it was strong enough to get up and
suck from its mother. Now we just had to keep the cow fed well enough, which
was much less demanding. Before I knew it, the calf was out with the others.
After we
were done calving, we sent the herd out on pasture from April to November.
Unfortunately, there was no way our little “project” would grow very well on
pasture, due to it bum leg. We put it in the pen and fed it hay twice a day. At
800 pounds we started giving it grain along with its hay to fatten in up at a
faster rate for slaughter. It was ready after almost a year. We hauled it to
the slaughterhouse, where it was put “on the rail.” They killed it, removed its
head, hide, hooves, and guts, and it is put in a cold room to be aged for about
a month. The carcass is then butchered into different cuts and packaged
(Beranek, Wood). At last the steak is delivered for the customer to prepare and
serve. We had steak in our freezer for more than a year from that once small
calf.
This
experience taught me all that goes into the products we consume on a daily
basis. However, unlike Thoreau, I appreciate all who have worked to advance
agriculture (Kinkead, Funda, McNeill 68). With farmers growing the food I eat
and the materials used to make my clothes, I am able to pursue my goals.
Without farmers, we would all be confined to small plots to scratch a living
off the land and progress would be compromised. Thank goodness for those who
work to get our food “from hoof, to rail, to table.”
Sources:
Beranek, Magda,
and Jason Wood. Agricultural Marketing
Guide. Alberta Agriculture and Rural Development, 9 Oct. 2008. Web. 28 Jan.
2015.
Kinkead, Joyce,
Evelyn Funda, and Lynne S. McNeill. Farm:
A Multimodal Reader. Southlake: Fountainhead Press, 2014. Print.
