Animal Terrorists

If you read that headline and have images of dogs and cats running around with submachine guns, you may be watching the PETA channel. Recently the U.S. House of Representatives approved the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act of 2006 - a clear victory of farmers against animal rights terrorists, according to the Wisconsin Farm Bureau Federation.

Tom Thieding, executive director of public relations for the Farm Bureau said animal rights terrorism is now one of the top domestic terrorist threats. Who would have figured that al Qaeda and PETA had links to one another. Just kidding. But on a more serious note, it's hard not to get ticked off at someone who is messing with your livelihood. A few years back these animal sympathizers let loose hundreds of animals on a Plymouth mink farm. I imagine strains of "Born Free" were running through their minds as these animals scurried off into the great unknown. Take it from someone who has tried to trap a wild mink, rounding up these wily creatures isn't an easy task. Wisconsin is one of the largest veal and mink producing states in the country (oh thank goodness we're not known as the mink state), and these farmers are the constant target of the animal rights community.

One year our kids had to wear buttons while working in the dairy exhibit at the Fond du Lac County Fair that informed folks that they were caring for their animals responsibly. And why wouldn't we? Animals in the ag industry are our bread and butter. We depend on them to put food on our tables so why wouldn't we take the extra pains in time, money and effort to ensure the best of care for our four-legged investments. I also take issue with some of the scare tactics this group and groups like them employ to sway the opinions of the general public that does not have any idea of how animals are really treated on (the great majority) farms. Take a moment to visit one of their activist web sites and you can bet they will show pictures of malnourished or mistreated animals. This is the exception not the norm.

Under this law, it would allow law enforcement expanded legal options to catch and prosecute persons who threaten the lives of ranchers and farmers and the animals they raise, and not wait for actual damage to take place. This would include intimidation, threats, disruption of markets, in addition to actual damage of property. Special thanks goes to Rep. Tom Petri for authoring the bill.

Yes, those who mistreat or neglect their animals should be taken to task, but within parameters of the law. Those thinking of tampering with animals on a farm should beware that there's something out there with teeth besides the family farm dog.

Haack to Attend Leadership Program

My neighbor, Tim Haack, will be among fourteen Wisconsin Farm Bureau members that have been selected for the first year-long Farm Bureau Institute Leadership Training Program. The initiative of the program is designed to develop future leaders for the organization and for agriculture by providing personal growth and leadership training.Tim and his cohorts will attend five three-day informative and interactive sessions held in 2007 that provide insight on issues important to agriculture, develop leadership and speaking skills, interact with Farm Bureau leaders and staff and leaders in the governmental and agricultural sectors, and network with other participants. At the end of the series, the class travel to Washington D.C. to participate in the Farm Bureau Leader Fly-in in 2008.

Tim got his start early in the dairy industry as the oldest of five kids on a farm run by his grandpa Hilbert and father, Harold Haack. Since taking the helm of the farm, Tim has initiated several large scale changes on the modest farm including a large free stall barn, milking parlor, manure pit and additional dairy cows.

Next time he passes by my house on his tractor I'll have to congratulate him.

A Whale of an Elephant?

While researching hybrid animal breeds I came across a creative web site that uses photoshop to create its own unique breeds. So if you're looking for some interesting browsing, click on the following site and enjoy.

http://www.hemmy.net/2006/08/29/photoshop-animal-hybrids-galore/

This trio of zonkeys show off their striped stockings as they pull a wagon in a parade.

A Horse is a zorse, of course!

This week as I covered the story of Larry Moyer's slain zebra, Randi, he confided to me that he and his wife, Diane, were planning to use the 12-year-old stallion to breed with horses and donkeys to create the hybrid breeds of zorses and zonkeys. When I looked the two terms up online I was suprised to see that many hobbyists are turning to hybrid breeds with interesting results.

Ever hear of ligers or tigons? Napoleon Dynamite wasn't the creator of these seemingly mythological creatures that display the characteristics of both the lion and tiger species. There are camas, a cross between the camel and llama and the grolar or pizzly bear, a cross of a grizzly and polar bear. There's even a wholphin a product of the union of a bottlenosed dolphin and a false killer whale.

A zonkey, a cross between a zebra stallion and a donkey, is an interesting looking character with the body and head coloring resembling its mother with striped stockings on its legs from dad. The zorse is a cross between the zebra stallion and a horse. It's coat follows the coloring of the mare but has ribbons of stripe patterns running through, giving it a tatooed, awesome appearance.

Prized in the United States for their unique appearance, zonkeys are more common in South Africa where zebras and donkeys are found in proximity to one another. Some game farmers raise zonkeys for canned animal hunters, claiming the zebra is made slower by cross-breeding thus making it an easier target for hunters looking for an unusual trophy.

Good Things Come in Small Packages

Just ask Eden rabbit breeder Patty Percy who won Best of Breed with her senior buck "Cool Hand Luke" and Best Opposite Sex of Breed with senior doe "Jem" at the 83rd American Rabbit Breeders National Convention in Ft. Worth, Texas. Percy is pictured at left with her two Dward Hotot (pronounced hoe-toe) rabbits and judge Greg West. Between Percy and Sharon Sullivan, 4-H kids and potential rabbit enthusiasts in Fond du Lac County can't go wrong in seeking advice or quality animal from these two bunny aficionados.

In fact, my youngest son had been given $20 by his godmother to spend however he wanted at the Fond du Lac County Fair this past summer. When we walked into the rabbit barn and saw a cage filled with tiny Hotots it was all over as far as my son was concerned. He plopped his money down in a heartbeat and now has a quality animal (and affectionate pet) to show at next year's fair - thanks to rabbit breeders like Percy and Sullivan.

The Wrath of Bambi

For years I have pored over sheriff's dispatch logs and noted numerous car vs. deer accidents. How much damage could a deer do anyway, seemed to be my line of thinking as I scrolled through the previous evening's calls. That was until Bambi did the Lambeau leap into my windshield last spring as I was driving through the Horicon Marsh.

I was already feeling bad about hitting a chipmunk that had darted out in front of me on Mill Pond Road when I entered the five-mile stretch on Highway 49 cutting through the north end of the Horicon Marsh. Locking on my cruise control, I glanced at the roadkill toll board that had posted the latest number of wildlife kills. I always cringe when I see squished turtles, geese and other critters that didn't make it across the highway, so I normally drive with extra caution through this area.

But for some reason I happened to glance toward Mischeler's Berry farm and wondered why no one was out picking strawberries. I didn't ponder this thought long as a brown body impacted my windshield, flew over the top of my car and lay lifeless in the ditch behind me. Later my son would tell his young son that grandma had killed Bambi.

Within seconds three men in pickup trucks stopped to see if I was ok. I wondered at their concern until I took a good look at my car and gave thanks that the safety glass had held. In the second breath, the good samaritans asked what I was going to do with that big deer laying in the ditch (word to single women...if you are thinking of hitting a deer as a way to pick up concerned, sensitive men...forget it. They've got venison on their minds).

When I started off for work that morning I had a nice, dependable car that was totally paid for. Minutes later I would be standing on the side of the road with a totaled car, dead deer and thoughts of car shopping and auto loans circling in my head (not to mention being the reason for the latest entry on the roadkill scoreboard).

Thinking of the headaches that ensued in the following weeks I have nothing but sympathy for the folks that collide with the fleet-footed creatures. Although it was a major annoyance and expense, I was lucky to walk away unscathed; some people don't. My word of advice: be on guard for moving deer no matter what time of year. That way you'll avoid the title of "Deerslayer" and "Bambi Killer".

Crossing the Line

Remember the scene from the musical "Oklahoma" where the cowboys and the farmers are at swordpoints (maybe pitchfork points) over their different views on gainful employment and lifestyles? A recent incident on a Dodge County farm brought that analogy to mind recently over the sporadic skirmishes that occur between hunters and farmers. Although we can post our land, there are times when we have to chase an unfamiliar figure clad in blaze orange from our woods and marsh during deer hunting season.

This case involves a farmer who had leased land from a landowner who failed to tell him he had given permission to a person to hunt on the land. While out combining, the hunter had the audacity to approach the farmer out in the field and demand that he leave the corn standing. The farmer was further stunned into silence (not for long mind you) when the hunter ordered him to remove himself (and the combine) from the field citing that the noise might cause the deer to flee out of his reach into an adjoining field. One call to the landowner ended that guy's hunting privileges in a hurry.

That battle of wills also pertain to farm families whose members are torn between the rituals of harvest and hunting. "But if you combine all the corn there won't be any place for the deer to hide!" is often heard from the deer hunting camp. "But we have to get the corn in before it snows" is a logical rebuttal from the person driving the combine 24:7 to beat Old Man Winter.

My solution to this dilemma - everyone gets their deer quota on opening day so the combine doesn't stand idle too long and they have a tropy to mount on the living room wall. That would make everyone (excluding the deer) happy.

Tom's Revenge

It's hard to feel sorry for turkeys especially after this morning. I'm not talking about the pea-brained domestic variety that stand out in the rain and drown, but that wild band of gobbling rabble that roams through cornfields wreaking havoc. The amount of corn those vultures eat each year should make them prime targets for the Thanksgiving table. But the wild turkeys are a little wiser than the average birds.

They seem to have a knack for hiding on land that's posted for "No Hunting" like the natural area near the Ledge on Breakneck Road. This morning as I as coming down the hairpin turn at the top of the Ledge there was a small band of wild turkeys sitting in the middle of the road. As I neared, they seemed to converse with one another before splitting off into two separate directions -east and west. As they raised aloft amid the clumsy flapping of wings just feet about my windshield, the westbound group did an about face and turned to join the others. As they were performing this manuever, the jet thrust of the turn must have been enough for them to unload their ballast - you guessed it, right on my windshield.

A group of turkeys is known as a rafter, but as I was driving away (muttering all the time under my breath) I would rather have likened them to a group of crows (known as a smack of crows) and did just that! But I have read enough accident reports to know that a turkey coming through a windshield can disable a driver in a hurry.

As I was headed down Oak Center Road, I could see through my fouled windshield another band of turkeys (bronze and white breeds this time) gathered in the ditch in front of a farm house. Then a thought struck me: maybe they were making plans to escape the inevitable and exact a few rounds of revenge on us unfeeling consumers knowing that Thanksgiving was only days away? With that in mind I gave the flock (uh, rafter of turkeys) a wide berth and kept going.

Maybe I should opt for a serving ham this Thanksgiving. After all, pigs can't fly, can they?

A Ray of Sunshine

If you have never met Trayton Greenfield, you don't know what you're missing in life. For those of you who have never met this Alto farm boy, Trayton's smiling face graced the cover of our recently published special section "Success". While Trayton humbly pushes aside any praise, instead shifting it to others, he truly is a success for many reasons.

I first met this perpetually happy man when he first walked into my office with the PR materials for the Alto Fair six years ago. No matter the weather or the circumstances, Trayton always has a smile on his face and a kind word to share. Just today he stopped by the office to offer his thanks for The Reporter's print contribution to the Alto Fair. Although it was three months ago, he wanted to make sure that I knew how much he appreciated my efforts. And, of course, he apologized for interupting me while I was on deadline.

But you know what? I don't mind interuptions like Trayton's visit. Just the kindness he exudes is so uplifting and I am grateful to count him among my friends. Trayton is a success because he makes other people feel like one. And that, my friends, is a true talent of a great person. Stop in and see me again sometime soon, Trayton.

Paint Relief

I got an email from Janette Arendt, customer service supervisor at LA-CO Industries manufacturer of the infamous painstiks I blogged earlier about. I shared my dilemma with Janette and she had the following suggestions that I would like to share with you: dry cleaning, or soaking spots in a vegetable oil-based product, Shout or Simple Green, an automotive product. After pre-treating clothes, lab personnel suggest washing clothes in hot water.

You can bet that's one tip I will try. I'll let you know how it works.

The lines have been drawn

The lines of battle have been drawn in the indelible colors of red, blue, green and orange. In my case the offending shade is bright orange. Upon hearing the words All-Weather Paintstiks, anyone married to a farmer will immediately identify with me in this ongoing battle that occurs weekly in laundry rooms all across rural America. There’s a reason why the word P-A-I-N appears in the name of this product.

It’s bad enough we indentured laundresses have to fish out an assortment of nails, washers, fuses, hypodermic needles (sheathed), jackknives and bits of corn, straw and grime (all left in pants pockets or cuffs) out of the washing machine. But when an undetected cattle marker finds its way into the dryer, that’s when the battle cry goes up.

Why such a fuss you males might ask. After all, wasn’t hubby nice enough to do the laundry himself? Let me explain about the wonderful qualities of a paintstik. First of all they are a grease-like crayon in garish colors that are used to mark cows to detect heat or write important identifying and sorting information – dry cows, treated cows, cull cows, etc. The All-Weather part of the name gives you a hint that they are long-lasting, resisting weathering and fading. While they are fade resistant, they don’t hold up well in the heat of a dryer. In fact, the clumps of ‘paint’ happen to stick very well to the enamel drum of the dryer. And you probably won’t even notice the damage when you take out a load of barn clothes that they’ve been affected (at least not my husband’s laundry).

However, the next load of laundry (which usually contains my work clothes, the kids’ Sunday finest or your son’s $50 pair of jeans he paid for himself) don’t fare as well. I have tried everything to get those markers out of clothes. Sometimes treating them with stain removers helps. But many times the only thing to do is relegate the ruined clothing to the barn clothes pile or the garbage. Cleaning out the drum of the dryer is another story. Try sticking your head inside an unventilated drum using a rag doused in nail polish remover and see how coherent you are.

I’ve tried begging: please clean out your pockets!! Threats: I will never wash your clothes ever again (this note is taped to the cupboard over the washing machine at home) and reason: do you know how much these clothes cost?? My latest tactic? Disposal. When I find the offending things I simply toss them in the garbage. I know it’s a waste of money, but the secret joy I get in throwing that ugly little stick in the garbage reduces my stress level and makes living with orange-streaked clothes bearable. Besides, I can also take comfort in being the best dressed (or most ridiculous-looking) person in our milking parlor decked out in my white dress pants with the interesting orange designs!

The Great Tree Debate

I read today that Wisconsin's Alice in Dairyland will be cutting down the first official Christmas tree of the season on Nov. 21 at Cook's Traditional Tree Farm near Chippewa Falls. Hopefully Alice (Nicole Reese) will have a more enjoyable experience than we did the first time out.

Filled with dreams of fresh, fragrant boughs of pine, we loaded the car with three kids and headed up north to a Christmas tree farm; no dried out trees for us that year. About 40 miles into the trip the whining began. Only a few more miles my husband assured them. After what seemed like hours, we pulled into the parking lot only to find that hundreds of others had opted to cut their own trees also.

With a saw in hand we headed towards the sea of greenery. Every time we saw the 'perfect tree' we cringed when we found the orange claim tag that someone else had tied on the tree. Little did we know that people had stopped weeks earlier at the farm to stake their claim (during nice warm weather most likely) on the beautifully trimmed trees. With others swarming among the trees we learned quickly that tree selecting was a competitive sport. Thus my husband suggested we venture further from the crowd where the good, choice trees were.

As we trudged further and further back the good trees seemed fewer and farther between. Looking back it makes sense that the tree farmers would set up camp near the attractive trees, not the pitiful little mutants that we were finding out in the back forty. Each perspective tree failed for some reason - crooked trunk, missing branches, too fat or too skinny, too short or too tall and the list went on. WIth daylight beginning to wane and milking time drawing nearer, my husband grew less inclined to listen to the critics who had now begun to complain of cold feet and having to go to the bathroom (with scads of trees for the choosing, my youngest son argued that it wasn't necessary to make the long trek back to the porta potties in the parking lot). I would soon find out that a little extra fertlizer on a tree would have been better alternative than a child crying over his wet underoos!

"We should have just stayed home and cut down the pine tree in the front yard," our other son said. Wise enough to keep my opinions to myself at this stage of the game, I secretly believed putting together an artificial Christmas tree with 1,000 branches sounded more attractive than dealing with our little mob who was growing more restless and mutinous by the minute. After finally reaching a consensus, we dragged our tree back to the car and headed for home with our trophy bound to the roof.

At least we did this as a family. A relative (who shall remain unmentioned) tried this with his family of six kids, only the bickering was worse. When he pulled into the tree lot he cut down the first tree he saw and headed back home (that must have been a long ride).

Even though our fresh tree was a bit crooked and scraggly, it was hard to notice with the homemade ornaments made by little, eager hands. Afterall, isn't the perfect tree the one that's decorated with love?

Outstanding in Her Field

Fellow farmwife, writer and friend Gloria Hafemeister has finally succeeded in chronicling over 30 years of 'farm wifery' in her new book "Rural Ramblings". Gloria is a wonderful advocate for agriculture and her writing has captured and promoted an awareness of the issues facing farmers. Over the years as a freelance writer, Gloria pounded out over 1,500 entries in her endearing column "Rural Ramblings".

So how do you choose which ones make the grade and the ones left on the cutting room floor? Let someone else do the picking, as I can imagine her writings are close to her heart and all just as dear - even the ones about getting the tractor stuck in the muck out by the cattails.

So if you have also chosen to marry a farmer, or if you just enjoy good wholesome humor, why not obtain your own copy by this talented, local author. The book can by purchased in the office of the Watertown Daily Times on Main Street in Watertown, the Hair Place in Hustisford or at Brandon Meats & Sausages in downtown Brandon. To purchase by mail, send a check for $19.99 plus $5 shipping to Gloria Hafemeister, N4727 Lake Dr., Hustisford, WI 53034. For more information contact Gloria by email at gloriah@charter.net or visit wdtimes.net/RuralRamblings.htm.

Congrats to Ryan and Frank

Two area youth will be recognized at the State Junior Holstein Convention when it convenes Jan. 5-7 in Fond du Lac. Joining 12 other outstanding youth in receiving Distinguished Membership Awards are Ryan O'Leary of Brandon and Frank Behling of Fox Lake. The group will receive individual plaques and have now earned the right to be recognized at the state level. The Wisconsin Juinor Holstein Association's aim is to increase knowledge and provide opportunities to youth by involvement through the Registered Holstein Project. If you see Ryan or Frank, tell them what a great job they're doing. Congratulations!

Safety a Two-Way Street

Fall is the time of year of migration. Geese begin winging their way across the sky, Packer fans fall into line on Highway 41 heading north to Lambeau field and farmers can be seen towing an assortment of farm machinery in and out of farm fields. Like giant ants, the tractors scurry between the field and the silo, laying in a store of feed for the coming winter. And like ants, they tend to leave a trail behind...not necessarily bread crumbs, but at times, clay and muck from the fields.

And for folks like Sharon Roznik who wonder about the perfumed air - it will be over soon. Most farmers who own manure pits, slurrystores or other large containment facilities are also trying to empty them out to create room for the manure to come all winter long. Even as you hold your nose, remember that it's more environmentally friendly to be spreading manure at this time of year when farmers can still knife it into the soil. Not so in the deep of winter when there's more of a chance for runoff on the unyielding frozen ground.

But I digress. Many motorists are unfamiliar with slow moving agricultural machinery. The potential for accidents is high. Equipment operators must be aware of the hazard their use of public roads causes and take necessary precautions. A manure caked slurry spreader is not the most visible piece of equipment even in the daytime. Even with the addition of flashing lights, motorists must take care to slow down to see what's on the road ahead of them. A couple of years ago my brother-in-law who was hauling manure one night was struck from behind by a young, female motorist, knocking the empty tank off its axles into the ditch. Luckily no one was hurt. But if that tank had been full, it might have been a different story.

So remember the following tips: farm tractors have wide loads and generally are going only a short distance before making a wide turn into a field or farm driveway. Even though you can see the tractor, don't be too sure they can see you. So please keep a safe distance. And remember, tractors also have a right to be on the roads.

On the other hand, farmers should make sure their vehicles are equipped with working lights (headlights on the front and flashing lights on the back), CLEAN SMV (slow moving vehicle) signs and be mindful of traffic behind you.

And to both motorists and farmers, the middle finger does not count as a sign!!! Remember, safety is a two-way street.

The Hardest Stories to Write

I can't tell you how much reporters dread writing stories about tragedies. The recent news of the fatality involving a Lamartine man and a farm implement has inspired me to to take up the pen and soapbox again in an effort to stress the importance of farm safety.

With the onset of planting and harvest, many farmers find themselves burning the candle at both ends with a million things to do and not enough hours to do them. If you've ever found yourself in that position, you know how easy and tempting it is to cut corners. And sadly, safety moves down the list of priorities. Combine time pressures and fatigue and an accident is just waiting to happen.

According to the UW Center for Agricultural Safety and Health, 25 farm-related fatalies were recorded in 2004, down from 37 the year before. Tractors were involved in 28% of the fatalies while animals and farm machinery were a close second at 20 %. The National Safety Council lists agriculture as one of the three most hazardous industries in the US - the only one not governed by OSHA.

So please, if you see a guard missing on a corn grinder or power take-off, take a moment to fix it. If you're tempted to reach in and dislodge some crops in a machine, make sure both the tractor and machine are off. While making the rounds on his job yesterday as news of Michael Haney's death spread, so many farmers told my husband it could just have easily been them - only they had been lucky. But how long until that luck runs out before you lose a finger, your arm or even your life?

While attending a conference on farm safety at the Marshfield Clinic National Farm Medicine Center in 2004, I learned that the single most underlying theme was that nearly all accidents are preventable. While the crops need to be harvested or planted in a timely manner, it's not worth life or limb. So please, slow down and make safety a priority. Your loved ones will thank you for it.

Birds of a Different Feather

A Fond du Lac resident was excited to see a Mandarin duck in her backyard this week. I wonder if it's mine. A few years ago, my son and I were all gung-ho on getting a game farm permit so we could raise unusual fowl - golden pheasants, peacocks, and canada geese (I know, they're a dime a dozen).

While at the swap meet at the Cow Palace we saw this pair of beautiful mandarin ducks for $50. We decided to take a gamble and buy the pair. While the owner was fishing them out of the cage, the male escaped, flying in circles in the building. This created a ruckus among the birds still in cages. I imagine in bird language the cacaphony translated into "Keep going! You can make it!" or "Hey, if he gets to leave why can't we?"

That should have raised red flags. But no, we blissfully took our birds home and put them in the waterhouse, a small building with four windows. The ducks, being the nervous type, seemed agitated, wandering around the small interior looking for an escape. When my husband came home I told him to look at our latest find. Rolling his eyes as he went out the door, he soon came back and asked where they were. The ducks in their bid for freedom, must have flown against a window, breaking the pane of glass. I could almost hear the sound of money flying off into the sunset.

So what lesson did I learn? Birds of a beautiful feather are best left in a cage at the swap meet. But I can't help but wonder if that bird is any relation to our escapees.