“They’re in the north pasture,” he says as I climb out of the truck. “Something’s not right.”
I follow him out to the pasture, scanning the herd as we approach. A few of the cattle look sluggish, their heads low, and their breathing seems labored. My heart sinks—it’s more of the same symptoms we’ve been seeing.
Which they shouldn’t be having with the medication.
“Dad, when did this start?” I ask, kneeling to get a closer look at one of the steers.
“Couple hours ago,” he replies. “Didn’t think much of it at first, but it’s not getting better.”
“And they were for sure medicated?”
“Yup, I marked all of them when I dosed them.”
“Okay. I did expect this, just because all the symptoms haven’t been textbook. We’re going to need to come at this with a little bit more.”
“Sounds good. Just tell me what I need to do differently.”
“I’ll have to see what meds Doc Lucy has and what I need to order. We’ll get them quarantined separately from the other quarantined, so we can keep it straight.”
Dad and I start to work together to build another quarantine area. As we get it finished, I see the different colored tags on a steer and remember that I meant to ask him about the different colors and brands. I stand and turn to face him.
“Hey, Dad, these steers—” I point to a few with different brands. “They’re not ours. Where did they come from?”
He hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “Bought them at auction a while back. There’s a new livestock auction company in Tamlin. Prices are better than most others, so a lot of the ranchers have been going there.”
“When did you buy them?”
He frowns, thinking. “Bought them a few months ago.”
“Had the symptoms started already? I’ve been here, what, three weeks?”
“They hadn’t started, but now that you mention it, the symptoms started not long after.”
I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Do you have the paperwork from the auction?”
“Yeah, it’s in the office. Let’s go look at that so I know for sure when I bought them.”
“This might be where the illness started,” I say, my voice tight. “I need to see that paperwork.”
“They said they had a seven-way vaccine, on top of lepto, BRD, and Mannheimia haemolytica vaccines.”
“So, your standard vaccines with the addition of the lepto. Tanner’s herd had symptoms of lepto. Do you know if he got cattle from there, too?” I ask.
“I’m sure he did. I don’t know for certain, but most of the smaller ranches need that price break Tamlin gives in order for us all to be competitive.”
We walk back to the house, and he pulls out a folder from his desk. I flip through the documents, scanning for any details about the cattle’s health history.
“The employee who gave me the paperwork said the cattle had all been through their quarantines, vaccinated, the whole nine yards,” Dad explains. “Said there was no need to quarantine them again.”
My eyes widen. “You didn’t quarantine them?”
He shakes his head. “There was another rancher I met there, some city slicker that just moved to Tamlin. He was behind me in line, said he didn’t see any problems with the cattle he bought, and this was his third auction. With me running without ranch hands anymore, it was easier to let them in with the regular herd.”
Shit.
I gasp, my mind racing. “Dad, this is probably where the illness came from. These cattle might have been carrying something, and now it’s spread to the rest of the herd.”
His face falls. “Damn it. I thought I was being careful. I know better.”
