Cattle Branding

This cattle branding had been on my schedule for a long time. I've got the cowboy boots, I've got the country music, but I haven't really seen how the ranching life works, and here was my chance, if only for a couple hours. I knew the basics: the cattle have to be branded, and in order for that to happen we have to hold them down. While they're down, might as well vaccinate and castrate them, too. Some friends of friends were having their annual branding last weekend, so us tourists decided to come along.

This is, not surprisingly, not the most pleasant process. When we first walked up, it was a rather hellish scene: calves kicking as fighting as they were dragged out of the corral by their hind legs; others moaning, pinned to the ground, while the hot iron was pressed to their ribs; and above it all the smell of burning hair. It was a shock, and for a second I thought not only could I not help out all, I probably couldn't eat beef anymore.

For all the brutality of that first glance, branding is a pretty uncontroversial practice. In fact, it's necessary for the kind of beef that most "enlightened" eaters would approve, because it gives permanent legal proof of ownership for free-range cattle. The life of an unbranded cow, free from this one day of pain, would be much worse. Though some of this cattle, once it is auctioned off, may also end up in places I'd rather not think about.

All of these rationalizations didn't really occur to me in the moment. I just stood and watched for a while and adjusted to the cacophony and violence until it seemed okay--these are ranchers, and these are cattle. I watched a few of my friends pin calves, and then eventually, nervously, helped to pin one myself.

Once we had branded all of the calves in the first corral, we moved on to a second corral with another couple hundred calves. (The cowboys, meanwhile, herded the third and final set--the biggest calves--back into the original corral. All told, we branded over 700 calves). One calf down, I felt more willing to step up to the edge of the corral and claim some calves to wrestle. I decided I preferred holding the back to the front, as there is some kind of established technique: press your foot down on the bottom leg, above the joint; pull the top leg straight back towards you; and--pardon the language, but this is how I was instructed, and it just doesn't sound accurate described any other way--stick your foot in the calf's ass so that it can't shit all over you. As the possessor of a sullied cowboy boot, I can tell you that this last step is important. If you are holding the head, meanwhile, you just do whatever you can to keep it down. I tended to just jam a knee right in their jugalar, because as Matt suggested, if you cut off their circulation for a little bit, they tend to be a bit more sedate. After a couple calves you learn not to worry about hurting the animal--what you're doing is going to be the least of their worries on this day.

I had been out late in Valentine the night before, and by the time we returned to the original corral and started branding the biggest of the calves, I was fairly exhausted and so, besides a few contributions, I reverted to spectator mode. Desensitized to the violence, it becomes clear that the branding is, more than anything, a social affair. Whole families--mother, father, and two toddlers--combined forces to take down their own calves; friends and families all came together to pitch in a finish a hard day's work. In exchange, once the job was done, we returned to the ranch house, scrubbed the dirt, manure, and blood off our hands, and enjoyed a massive supper. Ranch life, at least when you are not working, seems pretty pleasant (I rode horse for the first time, further legitimizing my claims to being a cowboy--right?).

Later that night, I headed back to Valentine. Wearing boots stained with blood and shit, I enjoyed a hamburger, knowing a little better where it came from.

Photos stolen from Suzannah (some are slightly graphic):

Cowboys roping cattle in the corral.

A calf being dragged to its fate, while two kids run in to pin it down.

Russ and Dan demonstrating how to hold a cow while it is being castrated. The cows didn't struggle much while being castrated. It was the branding where they really showed they were in pain.

Castration from a less pleasant angle. The oysters were saved and put on top of the branding fire, and eaten once cooked. I didn't eat any.

Branding.

Many kids, one cow.

Cowboys relaxing with just a few calves left to brand.