Distinctly Montana Magazine

D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A • W I N T E R 2 0 1 7 74 AGAINST THE ODDS Haphazard, yet regal, Old Red stands as the indisputable Red Limousin matriarch of our family's fourth-generation cattle herd. On the verge of her 29th birthday, she is the only animal who has been cared for by three generations of our family. She knew my late grandfather, my father, and is now under the watchful eye of my sister, who happens to be nearly two years younger than Old Red herself. Owning such an aged cow is an anomaly. Many ranches depend on calf sales as their primary source of income. If a cow fails to pro- duce a calf, she remains an expensive investment but yields no return. Consequently, many ranchers are forced to cull cows as the animals' ability to produce calves dwindles. Because most beef cows become less productive well before their tenth year, keeping older cows is an uncommon practice. Well, Old Red didn't get that memo. During the 2017 calving season, we will witness the birth of her 26th calf. Against all odds, indeed. NOW OR NEVER Physically and emotionally, calving season is arguably the most strenuous time of year for ranching operations. Producers who are unable to foster healthy, strong calves could quickly face financial ruin. Simultaneously, gestating cattle require extra care and moni- toring to ensure they have the greatest likelihood of producing viable offspring. Combine these issues with unpredictable weather, and it becomes quite easy to understand why calving season leaves many producers longing for the days of summer grazing. BRAVING THE STORM In order to minimize hay expenses and to maximize the use of pasture grasses, many Montana cattle producers choose to have their livestock calve beginning late in February and ending in early May. Unfortunately, the weather that often accompanies late winter and early springtime in our area is not always conducive to bringing new life into the world. In fact, it can sometimes be downright demonic. O N AN ISOLATED, QUIET HILLSIDE IN THE FOOTHILLS OF THE BEAR PAW MOUNTAINS, A CRISP FALL BREEZE RUSHES BY, TOUSLING HER WIRY, UNRULY FUR. ough once sleek and fiery red, her coat has faded to brick orange after years of exposure to Montana's frigid winter gales and unrelenting summer sun. Her body's muscling and fat cover rival those of cows one-fifth her age, but the reality of time is less hidden in the telltale angles and shadows of her face. ere is wisdom in her wide eyes, often contemplative but rarely concerned. As she weaves on through the pasture grasses, her gait is neither swift nor sluggish, and she is keenly aware of the sharp, frosty winds on the horizon. C A LV I N G by HOLLY MATKIN photos by KARLIE KAFKA O L D R E D A N D O F 2 7 S E A S O N S

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