Yesterday we went down the road to the local butcher shop to set an appointment for Jody's execution. She had many chances with the bull when we had him, all for naught. Makes no sense to keep a cow around if she can't have a calf, and as luck would have it, we're out of ground beef. I bought one of those five-pound tubes of 80/20 ground beef at Walmart yesterday. When I cut into the tube to portion it in one-pound packages for the freezer, a foul smell arose. Yeah, the meat stank. Oh, we'll eat it, but I'll try not to think about the smell. I've been spoiled by four years of eating our own beef.
Jenny, Jody's calf, will be forcibly weaned when mom goes to the butcher. She'll be six months old, so she is old enough. I am thankful that she is the spitting image of her mother, even though she has a greater proportion of Jersey genes. Because she has always run at her mother's side, she isn't as tame as my bottle calves are, but she isn't really wild, either.
We'll have no homegrown milk for at least a month. Bonnie-the-Jersey-cow is due October 10, and if she still has a decent quarter or two to milk, she'll provide our milk. I'm used to having cows butchered that have been pets, but this one is a little more difficult than usual.
Jody as a baby
I will, however, have no problem eating the meat. Especially after dealing with the smell of that Walmart meat, which may be from Mexico or Canada, according to the packaging. My bet is on Mexico.