I get this free farm town newspaper at a Save-a-Lot grocery store in northwestern Illinois. The Prairie News - JEANNE HARLAND - Dealing with seven tons of bulls

There are currently about seven tons of bulls within a mile stretch of road here in northeast Knox County. That’s nine bulls, and five of them are ours. The rest belong to Horsleys, who are actual cattle breeders. They now own a pasture up the road which they have renovated and fenced. Part of the ground is in hay. AJ says it looks just like it did when he was a kid, which is to say it looks beautiful. Their bulls are the finishing touch.

Bulls only work a few months out of the year. They would like to work year-round, but that is not practical. During the off season they still need someplace to live. This would be a lot easier to accommodate if it weren’t for all that testosterone. The same thing that makes them good at their job also makes them unwilling to share a pasture peacefully.

From what I’ve seen so far, the Horsley bulls are dignified and professional and just go about their business of grazing peacefully and looking scenic. Our bulls, on the other hand, act like a bunch of undisciplined adolescents. This doesn’t make it easy for them to room together in the little house pasture.

AJ and Matt strategized carefully how to place five bulls into one pasture without complete chaos ensuing. They had all been on assignment with different segments of our herd. Kyle was on the 40 with the heifers. WIU49 was at the Other Place with the older cows. 31 was here at home with the younger cows. Potts was in the relief pen and 7, the newest, youngest, and smallest, was on the disabled list with a slight limp. The goal was to introduce them all into the pasture in as short a period of time as possible to minimize any one of them establishing it as his own personal territory.

As one would imagine, there is a definite hierarchy among bulls, but it doesn’t correlate entirely with size or even age, though the latter is more of a factor than the former. We know the dynamics within this group of five bulls, so the first decision about how to best assure harmony around the hay ring was to put only four of them together in the pasture.

While this was somewhat inconvenient in the short term, it seemed a better option than potentially having to round up a cluster of badly behaved black bulls in the middle of some moonless night. 31 had earned a place in the cull lot anyway, by dint of being a troublemaker.

AJ and Matt were able to execute their plans with remarkable precision. By mid-morning four bulls were growling, pawing, bellaring, and posturing in the little house pasture. When AJ came in for a drink, I commented on the racket going on, “but at least they haven’t put one another through the fence.”

“Don’t say that!” he warned. I left to care for a neighbor’s kittens. I was gone for about forty minutes. When I turned to come up the lane on my return, I was alarmed to see the little Kubota nosed up against the bank along the little house pasture.

I feared AJ had had a mishap, but I did not see him, so I drove on by. A few yards beyond the Kubota the six strands of the barbed wire fence were a tangled mess, the springs hanging listlessly. Uh-oh.

Quickly I counted four bulls. Whew. I proceeded to the barnyard where AJ was repairing a feedbunk. I didn’t need to ask what had happened, but I did. It was my fault, of course, for giving life to the words earlier. “Potts pushed Kyle through the fence.”

AJ had been working on that bunk when he looked up and saw Kyle standing in the lane and Potts pawing the ground triumphantly. AJ jumped on the little Kubota and was able to drive around Kyle and partially block the lane. Then he walked Kyle up the ditch to the gate, opened it, and Kyle gamely went back in, where he immediately began pawing the ground at Potts. He knew he had to stand up to the bully, older by a year but pretty evenly matched in size.

For the next few days, there was an occasional shoving match, random head butts, and an excessive amount of noise, from basso profundo rumblings to whinnying screams, but the pasturemates managed to coexist peacefully enough. When the wind was just right I could hear a couple faint replies from the Horsley bulls up the road.

Now the bulls seem to have sifted themselves out into a reasonable living arrangement. 49, the big boy of the group by far, mostly does whatever he wants. He is old enough and docile enough that he has nothing to prove. If two of the other bulls were foolish enough and organized enough to gang up on him he would quickly demonstrate his superior power and the challenge would soon be settled.

Kyle and Potts offer grudging respect to one another. Kyle is a lover, not a fighter, so he will go hang out at some distance from the others if tension rises. The hot weather has done much to facilitate a spirit of brotherhood within this band of four. There is always some shade in the little house pasture, but there is never very much. The price of admission to a cool nap is tolerating the proximity of one’s rivals.

Little 7 knows he is low bull on this totem pole and seems to just go along with the crowd. None of the others pay him much heed except at the feed bunk each morning when they work together to edge him down to the end where he will finally duck out and amble on down to the opposite end to start over.

Meanwhile in the cull lot, 31 is continuing to reinforce AJ’s decision to send him to market by upsetting at least one of the big wooden feed bunks every day. Every. Single. Day.

Next week we will wean the calves, so there will be a whole new set of things to worry about. For right now, however, we are settled into a routine, however tenuous it may be. Because the hydrant at the bulls’ water tank leaks, I shut it off every night when I feed the goldfish that live in it. Big old 49 was approaching the tank for a cool drink one morning when I turned it back on. Just as he thrust his massive head into the tank to take his first sip, the float suddenly spurted noisily to life. Startled, 49 jumped straight up into the air and back about three feet all at once.

And that is no bull.

Beefy Sweet & Sloppy Joes

This is a kid-friendly recipe with a great name. Sweet bell peppers give it the sweet, and, the sloppy, well, that’s the whole sandwich. This BeefIt’sWhat’sFor Dinner.com recipe is certified by the American Heart Association®.

Ingredients: 1 pound Ground Beef (96% lean)
1 cup chopped yellow, green or red bell pepper 3/4 cup finely chopped onion
1 can or bottle (12 ounces) 100% vegetable juice
2 tablespoon lightly-packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
4 whole wheat hamburger buns, split Cooking:

1. Heat large non-stick skillet over medium heat until hot. Add ground beef, bell pepper and onion; cook 8 to 10 minutes, breaking beef up into 3/4-inch crumbles and stirring occasionally.

2. Stir in vegetable juice, brown sugar and Worcestershire sauce; bring to a boil. Reduce heat; simmer, uncovered, 7 to 9 minutes or until most of the liquid has evaporated and thickens slightly, stirring occasionally.

3. Evenly place beef mixture on bottom half of each bun; close sandwiches.

JEANNE HARLAND is a cow-calf producer in Knox County where she and her husband, AJ, also raise corn, soybeans, oats and turnips.