Written In A Tramadol Haze -- August 2016

Last month I wrote about the need to get proactive with health and safety, and I’m pleased to report that I have done just that. The manual is coming together nicely and a staff meeting to identify and discuss hazards has been scheduled. I’ve even found a place that makes up hazard identification boards for the cowshed wall and I have statutory declarations ready to send off to all my contractors, along with instructions to check the hazard board before starting any work on the farm.

Despite all this and 20 plus years of farming experience, I’m writing this column through a tramadol haze while recovering from general anaesthetic.

Wednesday morning was beautifully warm and clear, I was up at 5:30am to feed the season’s first load of bobby calves and I even tweeted how bright the stars were that morning (you’d be surprised at how many people are awake and online in the early hours).

I got the calves done quickly and as it was getting light I set off to see if there were any fresh calves in the springer mob. I soon spotted a new calf and set about doing something I’ve done tens of thousands of times without incident over two decades. I wrote the mother’s number in my notebook and approached the calf with a numbered neckband. I kept the calf between me and its mum and walked up to the calf confidently while keeping an eye on the cow, who had backed off a few steps.

As I bent over the calf to put the band around its neck, an idea for this month’s column hit me in the face. The idea took the form of a hard bony skull with a half-tonne of agitated beef behind it, so I couldn’t help but pay attention. I’d like to tell you I shrugged it off and swatted the cow away, but instead I immediately collapsed to the ground while my eyes filled with blood, fighting the urge to vomit as cow number 7 proceeded to perform a tap dance routine on my ribs. Curling up into a protective ball and whimpering seemed to convince her she’d won, and off she trotted happily with her calf. I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to be wearing a bike helmet. I collected my shattered glasses, limped back to the bike and headed home to assess the damage.

Was I complacent? Maybe, but I was doing a routine job in the same manner that has worked flawlessly for years. We work with animals every day, we have our favourites that we scratch behind the ears and rub their noses, but they can get stroppy too.
Cows can be very protective mothers and I took my eyes off one for a couple of seconds with very painful results, please be vigilant during calving and stay safe.