Jake’s Hay

 D. E. Larsen, DVM

The sun was just poking up over the Cascade foothills as I headed home from an early morning calf delivery in Crawfordsville. The weather was super, and I am sure that all the Memorial Day campers were making their last-minute plans for the big weekend.

We had been in Sweet Home for several years now, and without failure, Memorial Day weekend was the same every year. We would see a steady stream of traffic coming through town headed to the mountains for the weekend. Then on Sunday, or at the latest, Monday, the rain would start. All the happy, optimistic campers would be staggering back through town with wet crying kids hanging from the windows. Soaked tents and sleeping bags almost dragging behind the trailers.

I turned at Holley Church to take Old Holley Road into town. I just wanted to check on another local legend. If my prediction was correct, Jake Marker would be cutting his hay this morning. 

Jake was always the first to cut his hay. And without fail, Jake would get his hay cured and in the barn before Memorial Day. The remarkable thing was, he would accomplish this feat without getting a drop of rain on his hay. Jake’s hay was the best in the Sweet Home area.

As I came around the corner, Jake’s ranch came into view. I could see Jake on his tractor, already in the field, mowing his grass. It would be interesting to watch the next few days to see if he could again beat the odds and get his hay in the barn before the inevitable holiday rainstorm.

***

“Did you see old Jake mowing his hay yesterday?” Irvin said when he was in to pay his bill.

“Yes, I drove by his place yesterday morning, just to check,” I said. “The sun was just up, and he was out in the field with his mowing machine already.”

“I don’t know how he figures it,” Irvin said. “But he gets his hay in the barn before Memorial Day every year. And then a couple of others, who watch for Jake, start cutting theirs. But they always lag a day or two. Jake’s hay goes in the barn dry, and the good Lord brings the rain. Then all those campers get soaked, and the other’s hay gets wet. Their hay lies out there in the field, and most years, it is completely ruined.”

“You would think if they were going to do their hay early, that they would start cutting the same day that Jake cuts his hay rather than waiting a day to two,” I said.

“I know, it is hard to figure how some people make decisions,” Irvin said. “And it is the same every year. Jake cuts his hay, and the sun stays out. Then I guess it is the same as those campers going through town this coming Friday. They figure it will hold for the whole weekend.”

“Old Jake is pretty tight-lipped about how he decides when to cut hay,” Irvin said. “I have tried to pump him for his system a time or two, and he never says a word. I have no clue about how he decides when to cut.

“One of Glenn’s fields, out on the highway, I have not seen them get the hay off the field once in the years we have been here,” I said.

“It has been going on long before you came to town, Doc,” Irvin said. “The wife and I snicker about it every year. I just go about my business and cut my hay when we have a good stretch of good weather later in June. My hay might not be a pretty as Jake’s, but it is a heck of a lot better than Glenn’s.”

“Well, from what I have seen, Jake works pretty hard getting his hay dry,” I said. “He will be out there working it, turning in over every day at least. Sometimes, I think he maybe turns it morning and night on some days.”

“Yes, I know,” Irvin said. “All that gas just adds to the total cost of hay. Grass hay is worth so much, you know.”

“I had argued that point before,” I said. “But changing the way you do things is hard, sometimes. I think guys would get more value from their grass if they gave up on the grass hay idea and concentrated on posturing it until it dried up in the late summer. They might even need to buy some feeder steers to pasture for a few months in the spring and summer.”

“I haven’t heard that idea,” Irvin said. “What are you going to do for feed in the winter.”

“Rather than having all that expensive hay equipment that sets in the shed most of the year, why not buy alfalfa hay,” I said. “The nutritional value of alfalfa is far superior to grass hay. I think if we put a pencil to it, you would come out on top.”

“Doc, my guess is you’re going to have a lot of talking before you get people to change their haying practices around here,” Irvin said. 

***

I made a point of checking Jake’s progress each evening before going home after the clinic was closed. As Irvin and I had discussed, he worked hard at getting his hay dry. That probably had as much to do with getting it in the barn before the rain started as any magic formula that Jake had in his back pocket.

This year was no exception. Jake hauled his hay to the barn on Saturday. It started with light rain on Sunday. And on Monday, there was a downpour, and the bedraggled campers started their parade back through town. And Glenn’s hay, not yet baled, was soaked as it laid in windrows in the field.

Photo by Barbara Olsen from Pexels.

From the Archives, one year ago

The Lasso and the Wire, click on the link:

https://docsmemoirs.com/2020/11/30/the-lasso-and-the-wire/

Horse Trailer Down

 D. E. Larsen, DVM 

I slowed as I approached the accident. The flashing lights looked like it was coming from several emergency vehicles. There were cars stopped and parked along the road, and many people were gathered around and watching. I pulled up behind the ambulance and got out of my van.

I was a couple of miles out of Enumclaw.  A frantic owner had called for help in getting her horse out of the trailer. She didn’t say exactly what was causing the problem.

Now I could see the pickup. It had missed the corner and ran off the road. The horse trailer was lying on its side. It looked like half the fire department scurrying around the trailer, trying to decide what to do.

“Are you the vet?” the fire chief asked.

“Yes, some gal called about getting a horse out of her horse trailer,” I said. “She didn’t say anything about an accident.”

“Every time we do anything to try to move that horse, it throws a fit,” the chief said. “I figured we needed somebody with some expertise.”

“Well, you got me,” I said. “I’m here, but I don’t know about the expertise thing. Let me get a look at the situation.”

The trailer was on its left side, and the top was lower than the bottom. The young mare was obviously scared and had her head up, watching me out of her right eye. I could see some jagged pieces of metal that could tear her skin if we just dragged her out of there. And there was a sizable laceration on her right shoulder. But the good thing, her legs looked okay. At least, what I could see from at her rump.

“What do you think, Doc?” The chief asked. “Can we get her out of there?”

“I think we are probably going to have to get her sedated before we can pull her out,” I said. “There are a couple of pieces of sharp metal that will slice her up if we just pull her out with her struggling. Where is the lady who called?”

“The owners are over there in front of the ambulance,” the chief said, pointing to the couple. “The lady is pretty freaked out, but the husband is doing fine.”

“Hi, I’m Dr. Larsen,” I said as I extended my hand to the husband. “I understand you are one are the one’s who called?”

“Yes, my name is Ed. My wife is the one who called,” Ed said. “Thanks for getting here quick. What do you think? Can we get her out, or should we just shoot her now? We don’t want Holly to suffer any.”

“From what I can see, things look pretty good,” I said. “I think if I sedate her, we should be able to pull her out of there with tearing her up too much. That is unless there is some sharp metal that she is lying on that I can’t see. I definitely don’t think that we are at a point where we need to discuss shooting her.”

“You do what you think is best, Doc,” Ed said. “We will just deal with the situation afterward, whatever needs to be done.”

I went to the van and drew up a dose of Rompun and a couple of grams of pentathol.

“So, what are you thinking, Doc?” the chief asked.

“I’m going to give this horse a brief anesthetic and then your crew and drag her out of there with her hind feet,” I said. “To do that, I am going to give her a tranquilizer.  Then, I will have to climb in there with her and give her the anesthesia in the jugular vein.”

“That sounds a little dangerous to me,” the chief said. “Are you confident that you will be safe, crawling in there with the horse?”

“There is probably a little risk, but I think if I give her a big dose of Rompun, she will be okay,” I said.

“Well, I’m in charge of this scene, and I’m not sure I can let you do that,” the chief said.

“Then you just march your ass over there and tell that lady we are going shoot her horse,” I said as I got the dose of Rompun ready to administer.

I lifted the horse’s tail and gave the Rompun with an intravenous injection into the tail vein.

“I guess you might be right,” the chief said. “But if you can give that injection in the tail, why not do this next injection there?”

“If I make a mistake and some of the drug leaks out of the vein, her tail might just end up falling off,” I said. “This next injection goes in her jugular vein.”

When the young mare closed her eyes and laid her head down, I eased myself onto her right side and inched my up to her shoulder. From that point, I could accomplish the injection into her jugular. I could feel her body relax under me as the pentathol reached her system.

I crawled back out of the horse trailer. The fire crew hooked onto the mare’s hind legs with some large nylon straps. With several guys on each line, they easily slid the horse out of the trailer. We pulled her around so her head was uphill and rolled her up on her sternum.

“How long is she going to be out?” the chief asked.

“It won’t be long. I gave her a small dose of pentathol,” I said. “I would guess I can have her up and moved out of your way in five minutes, ten at the most.”

It was just a few minutes, and I was able to coax Holly to her feet. With Ed helping, we led her to the other side of the road. They were hooking the wreckers up to the pickup and trailer as we moved her.

“I think you came out of this pretty good, Holly,” I said.

I ran my hands over Holly, looking for any injuries other than the one laceration on her right shoulder.

“Can we sew up this cut while she is still sleepy?” Ed asked.

“That will work well, to do it now,” I said. “If you can hold her, I will get a few things. This will only take a few minutes.”

With Holly well tranquilized, I was able to shave and prep her wound with no problem. Then I injected lidocaine for a local anesthetic and sutured the wound with interrupted sutures of number one nylon.

“I will give her a dose of long-acting penicillin and a tetanus vaccination, and you will be good to go,” I said. “How are you going to get her home?”

“My brother is on his way with his truck and trailer,” Mary said. “I can’t thank you enough, and I am sorry that I was such a mess earlier.”

“That’s okay, Mary,” I said. “You had a lot of stress. Holly is going to be fine. You need to give me a call in a couple of weeks, and we will get these sutures out.”

“Thanks again,” Mary said. “And Ed just ran over to get his checkbook out of the truck before they pulled it away.”

Holly healed well, and Mary and Ed remained loyal clients. I am not sure that I made the correct decision, crawling into that trailer with Holly, but somebody had to do it.

Photo by Kevin Carrera from Pexels.