The man that cuts the meat... ( Part 1)

This blog is not for the feint hearted,
or people with weak stomaches,
nor is it for

people who believe their dogs need to follow a vegan diet.

It contains pictures of blood, gore and guts.
It does not however,
but should,

have a "scratch and sniff" part.

In order for you guys  to appreciate the full effect!

Ok, so let me start at the beginning.

A few months back we had a whole bunch of young bulls.
Some where going to stay as breeding bulls,
some where going to be sold and

one was going to be our next freezer beef.

All until three of them decided to get into a free for all.

The result was two dead,
 and one pretty beat up.

Two bulls, fed and ready for market just dead in the field.

Prime beef,  just tuned into dead meat.

Due to some other busy jobs, we did not have time to process them.
However, this is no big deal as we live in a deep freeze climate here,
so the beef just froze up and waited for a moment when we would have time to work with it.

This Blondie was destined for our freezer... alas he will now be dog food.

We did have a financial blow with the death of these bulls,
however we decided we needed to make the most of a bad situation.

You know "waste not, want not.."
The meat was certainly still great for the dogs.
One bull would feed our pack of dogs for at least two weeks.

So, a few weeks back Eric got going with one of them.
They have a program on Nat Geo or Discovery called Dirty Jobs,

This one ranks right up there.

Eric picks up the frozen carcass with the grapple on the tractor,
and then just cuts slices off the bull with the chainsaw.

Hence, his new nickname High Prairie Chainsaw Massacre.

As the animals are not gutted immediately,
their stomach content of fermented grain and hay froze with the animal.

That's the green part on the photo that Eric is cutting through.

This creates an odour that is just mind blowing once you start cutting.

Now, I am no princess,
I have seen my share of gore in my life,
I have pulled out rotting lambs from within ewes,
I have fished out  bloated drowned sheep from rivers,,
I have replaced prolapses,
treated maggot infested wounds.
I can handle most things..

The meat part is fine..
the smell of the stomach is what really gets you..
I mean me.

Once the bull has been reduced to slices,
we feed all that prime beef to the dogs
and some of the grain filled stomach contents goes to the chickens,
and that really gets them laying...

Part 2, will follow shortly....
that is if you want to continue on with this unsavoury topic,

After part 2, I promise, I will write a blog about nice things...

Photo friday - around the Ranch

It was one of those beautiful winter days yesterday,
so I went outside and took some pictures.

Enjoy..

Shadow

Cows are amazing

Vuk

Our road

Roxy

Crackers and Ace

Three dorset rams that did not make the breeding grade

An island of hay for the ewe lambs

Beli

Hay bales drowned in snow

Roxy

and have a great weekend.

Echo

I always feel melancholic when an older dog leaves our place.
I remember the dreams and hopes I had for that cute pup.
Then, over time comes the painful realisation that he is not the dog I was looking for,
or wanting.
Due to no fault of his.

In fact, when I look more closely at this matter,
it is probably my lack of  wanting to make compromises,
that has lead to this moment.

On the other hand,
I have seen dogs broken down by disappointment, failure, disdain and
not being able to meet the ambitions or approval of their owner or trainer.

You see the dog trying,
but it is just never good enough.

It is soul shattering to see.

The dog becomes unsure and 
the owner slowly starts disliking the dog,
for all that he is not.

With over 26 years of working with collies I have seen this negative pattern too often.
Unfortunately, I cannot say this has never happened to me or one of my dogs.

Thankfully, I have become more insightful in the years,
 and because I liked Echo too much,
I would not allow this to happen.

So, yesterday, he left us for a new life,

where he would be appreciated for what he is.

Echo will have a career change now.
He has moved to Ontario,
where he will try his paw at agility

(and if he is lucky will become a ladies man...)

He will never see the dissapointment in my eyes,
or know my frustrations when he battles to move our heavy sheep.

All, he will know is that he was my buddy for three years,
we enjoyed walks together, horse rides and racing the quad.

He can look into my eyes and know I loved him.

I wish him all the best.