Being Inoculated

But, happily, almost completely controlled by early vaccination.
Early.As in 'before-it-gets-warm-in-Alberta'.So, sometime before July.That explains Dad, the calves and the cold.Moving on . . .The calves were being shuffled down a chute, one by one, to receive their vitally necessary little jab.All was going well.One group finished.Another was being sorted into the catch pen for further shuffling.Meanwhile, Dad had placed his favourite pistol syringe under his coat to keep it, and the vaccine it contained, from freezing.
Remember? Minus 40?One of the animals in the pen bumped into him.The syringe pricked the skin of his belly.Those needles are sharp for a reason . . .He could only have taken in a very minute amount of the Blackleg vaccine.But it was enough.By the time he finished with the herd, he knew he was in trouble.He drove himself to the hospital.And stayed there.For three weeks.He was a very, very sick man.But his strong constitution and normally healthy lifestyle finally tipped the balance and he began to respond to treatment.At the end of the third week, a thinner, whiter version of my father returned home.My brave mother hadn't explained, at least to the younger half of the family, exactly what was wrong with Daddy.We knew he was in hospital, but had no idea why.Or how serious it was.It was only years later that I found out the whole story.Okay. Much too late to panic now.But I did learn several things from this experience:Vaccine for calves should really only be given to calves.People don't respond well to it.Never hold one's syringe under one's coat.Don't vaccinate in the cold. And...If there's ever a blackleg outbreak, Daddy's had his shots
Published on October 27, 2020 07:48
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On the Border
Stories from the Stringam Family ranches from the 1800's through to today.
Stories from the Stringam Family ranches from the 1800's through to today.
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