Sound bite

What’s wrong with these pictures? OK, another city-ish question, but I still have to ask: with so much brilliant green grass covering the hills like velvet, why are these cows so interested in dry alfalfa flakes? Jim, a walking compendium of all things cow, is only too happy to oblige an answer.

caught me with my mouth full!

breakfast

To maintain herself at this time of  year, he explains, a cow needs three things: nourishment for herself, nourishment to produce the milk for her nursing baby, and nourishment to come into heat and conceive her next baby. Satisfying all three needs requires about 20 pounds of feed every day, but at this time of year that feed can’t be grass alone. Why? Because right now and for about the next two months or so, the new winter grass consists of nearly 98% water and not enough nutritional value.

“If the cows were left just with the natural forage, only very few would conceive. They wouldn’t have enough energy to produce milk for the babies at their sides. And older cows that are short of teeth would starve because there’s just not enough nutrition to keep them alive, ” Jim explains.

So how does Jim select the alfalfa he feeds? Turns out that, just like my screen, alfalfa hay is wysiwyg: what you see is what you get.

“I can tell just by looking at and feeling the hay, how much gross energy and gross protein it contains. From the color, the smell, and the feel I can tell how it was grown and how it was put up,” Jim says. And what’s he looking for? Small stems, good green color, an absence of mold, and lots of leaves. If the alfalfa is too “stemmy,” the cow can’t get the nutrition she needs. (To get a grip on this all-important stem-to-leaf ratio, check out this study by the USDA/University of Wisconsin: “Harvest-Fractionation of Alfalfa.” Or just call Jim.)

With about 180 animals in the herd at the Trabucco ranch (where we are right now), you can do the math to get an idea of this chore’s scope— 3600 pounds of hay have to be doled out each and every day at this location alone. But over the years, Jim’s developed an exquisitely efficient way of accomplishing the task: he throttles down to first gear, steps out of the pilot’s seat, and lets the tractor from hell wander the field as he tosses out the bright green flakes.

As the flakes land, the cattle, who’ve streamed over the hill to meet us,  mosey up to their feed in companionable groups. There’s no competition and no stress. Just the sound of munching.

And that reminds me, I’m hungry. I need breakfast, too, and my morning cappuccino. See you later.