Winter Feeding Time

Hey, I found another cool picture of my dad's. This is a picture of Darrell on his hay wagon feeding the cattle in Mar 1951 shortly after we moved to the Melstone place (also known as the Musselshell place). I didn't hear about where he got his draft horses, but his dad and grandpa were both in the horse business, among other things, so it came naturally to my Dad.

By my earliest recollection we were using a tractor to pull this same wagon and later a pickup to feed the livestock. We also used it to haul hay in the summer. Since I didn't have to go out and help in the worst weather or very often it was kind of an adventure to go out and help with the feeding. It was usually one of the kids that drove and Dad helped the others with throwing out the hay bales. You know, that first few years it probably wasn't even baled hay but loose stacked hay that was thrown off with a pitch fork. Our first baler made about 40-pound cylindrical bales, tied with baling twine so they couldn't be as heavy as the later bales bound with wire.

As with the picture of "branding day" my senses are engaged as I look at the pictures of the hay wagon and some of the livestock we fed. At one point we had 800 to 1,000 sheep (counting lambs) and several hundred head of cattle. As we drove out into the pasture towards them, Dad would call out to the cattle and we would mimic his call.
m-m-M-M-O-O-o-o, m-m-M-M-O-O-o-o-cow we would call and the cows responded with bellows of their own. I practiced a lot to get the call just like Dad's. I thought they were pretty smart to come when we called. The cows would lift their heads, see (and maybe smell) their dinner and come on the run. As the first bale dropped, dust would fly and the scent of summer gone would escape from the freshly broken bale. The cattle all ran for that first bale but would soon abandon it and follow us further as another bale and another dropped to the ground. Some of the braver (or hungrier) cows dared run alongside the wagon and try to catch a bite off the hay not yet thrown, their steamy breath filled the air around us. The strings were pulled off the hay bales and they were kicked and rolled out to allow more cattle to feed on a bale, and soon there was a trail of cattle all along the route hurrying to get their fill before they were pushed aside or the hay was all gone until the next day.

My dad spent all summer putting away hay for winter and all winter feeding it to the livestock. He never got a rest. I guess I shouldn't say that, because I did find some pictures of him catching a catnap in a chair or on the sofa. It was a well deserved rest.


For about 40 years, my dad and brothers spent their wintry days making sure the hay was distributed to the livestock until they could graze again. I'll bet Dad was so excited when spring brought new grass for grazing and the feeding ended for another season.


Here are some of the animals that we fed.