A Day at the Salon

 Things I learned this week:

1. It's not just male calves that have horns.
2. Now none of them do. 

Working from home these days means that I'm much more aware of what's happening on a daily basis. Whether it's watching the vet arrive to check out a new calf or a Fallenstock lorry leaving with its load, the sights and sounds of the farm are much more in my face. 

Last week was fairly noisy. Ivie and his brother were de-horning the calves. I must have looked horrified because Ivie explained that removing the horns keeps them from injuring each other when they tussle and also stops them injuring humans when they have to get up close and personal. 

I wondered if having their horns removed was a bit like having a pedicure, except they don't apologise about the state of their feet and wish they'd brought their flip-flops to change into to go home. As you can imagine, it's not quite as simple as that.

It involves moving all of the calves into a pen then taking them one by one down a sort of corridor called a race. The race ends in the crush, a metal contraption that locks as soon as the animal pokes its head through. Imagine a really strong baby seat. With a calf in it. 

Happy Hornless Calves

There are various implements involved, depending on the size of the calves' horns. Little stubby horns are lobbed off with sheers then cauterized with a de-horning iron, which is a big, hot, metal stick. Horny horns are removed with a de-horning wire, which is a hot, twisted cheese wire. A standard trip to the salon then. 

(They all have anaesthetic applied to the top of their heads to make it as painless and stress-free as possible.) 

It's a noisy business - and not just the swearing. The calves make it perfectly clear that they'd quite like to keep their teeny tiny horns, thank you very much. And Ivie and his brother make it perfectly clear that the ******* calves will do as they're ******* well told. 

The swear jar is filling up nicely in time for our Christmas night out. Oh wait...