12 Aug 2007
Rasta's Final Resting

One thing most non-farm people don't think about is the disposal of dead animals - I even had one friend ask if we were going to butcher and eat Rasta! Uh, no.

There are several reasons for this: one, we're not always sure why the critter died, and if it was an infectious disease or a poison it would beas distinctly bad idea to chow down. Also, although we were acutely aware of exactly when when Rasta died, this is not usually the case, and humans have always generally avoided carrion. Besides, I don't have an good llama recipes! So carcasses must be disposed of, and it must be done legally and (at least on farms like mine) in some reasonably eco-friendly way.

I know I'll never call the dead wagon again: once is enough for that experience. But how do two people load a 500 pound rotting carcass in the back of a truck, and where do you take it when you do get it loaded?

The short answer to the first question is that two people don't get a 500 lb. carcass in the back of a truck - not without a winch or a front loader, neither of which I own. It takes at least three people to accomplish this. Along with much grunting, sweating (winter or summer) and swearing. If you've not experienced it firsthand, you have no idea how a llama that's been lying about in 100° plus heat for two days smells. And trust me on this one, you really don't want to know, either.

If I had managed to get him loaded with enough time to get to Lafayette by 5pm on Friday, I could've taken him to the Purdue University School of Veterinary Medicine, which would have done a rudimentary necropsy and disposed of the carcass for a mere $50. I came home early, but after much struggling Friday afternoon, it proved impossible for two to load the dead llama, so we had to find another option. Karl (a neighbor) has a "back 40", with a tumbledown rock pile and a composting area. He already had a couple of recently dead hogs back there, and said it would be no trouble at all to let us drop Rasta off - but we'd have to get him there ourselves.

A neighbor, Tim, came over Friday evening to help us. Tim's a big strong guy, but it still took us nearly two hours, a fence come-along, an old ramp I used for loading equipment, a wheelbarrow and several fence posts for levers, before we finally got the carcass into the truck. At 10pm. If ancient Egyptians had loaded llamas into pickup trucks, this is more or less how they would've done it. He was delivered to his final resting place on Saturday morning. And Tim will get a new website and free hosting for a year, plus whatever help he'll need if one of his critters kicks the bucket. You can't thank somebody enough for offering to help in a situation like this.

Whew! and phew! I suspect that despite showering and changing clothes we smelt of dead llama. Or perhaps the odor was just fixed in our olfactory nerves, and no one else could smell it. It's been 24 hours, and I can still get a noxious whiff every once in a while, so I certainly have reason to hope it's just our noses. But we'll never know for sure.

12:20 /Home | 2 comments | permanent link

Suddenly, the Hunt Is on for Cage-Free Eggs

With recent changes in health regulation here locally, free range eggs will stay in short supply, too. I've not mentioned it here before, but I've reduced the flock from ~500 to less than 50, and am selling only off the porch now. This was in response to Marion County health inspectors demands that I grade and sort my eggs, something my customers didn't want me to do and that would cost me greatly in additional labor,time and storage facilities.

Additionally, as the article points out, "cage free" is certainly not the same as "free range". My chickens roam the barn lot (and the yard) and always have. They roost at night in the henhouse, and I do lock the door after they're in, but that's the only time they're confined at all, and that's just to keep the coyotes from feasting on them. Note the picture (from an Indiana facility) accompanying the piece: there are thousands of debeaked chickens crammed into a barn - and this is supposed to be more humane than battery cages. Right. Sure. If you believe that, I've got a bridge for sale in Brooklyn that I'll let go real cheap.

I'll been remiss in keeping my readers appraised of changes on the farm, but suffice it to say for now that many things are being reordered, and that our primary production will be fiber (wool) rather than food, simply due to the regulation, taxes and licenses required to commercially sell the latter.

A rush on the eggs has led to headaches as big buyers learn there may not be enough to go around.

(link) [New York Times]

08:44 /Agriculture | 0 comments | permanent link