Everyone has had an animal that they regret selling the second the deal is done. For us, that was a pure-bred Hereford heifer called Marjorie last year.
he was the Naomi Campbell of Herefords, with looks, legs and a backside that could stop traffic.
I consoled myself that there would be another Marjorie and let time heal the self-inflicted wound created by my avaricious nature.
However, the ghost of Marjorie came back with a bang when I got a call from our local District Veterinary Office (DVO) to inform me that a heifer I had sold last year had gone down with TB and my farm would now be immediately locked up.
To say I was perplexed was an understatement. In the first instance, our farm has never had TB in the entire history of the time we’ve been here. We’re one of the 66,000 herds in the country that has a category C10 TB status, which means we’ve been TB-free for over 10 years.
Secondly, Marjorie had been sold to the farm where she tested positive for TB nearly eight months ago.
Thirdly, we sold over 15 animals last year plus cull cows and none of the others has tested positive for TB.
However, my biggest area of concern was that we have heavily pregnant Hereford cows due to give birth throughout March. This is why our TB test is always scheduled for the end of April, so that cows and calves can be tested together.
Otherwise, I’d have to pay for the calves to be tested again before some are sold as weanlings in the autumn.
I explained all this to the vet on the phone. She was very sympathetic and pointed out that I could remain locked up with TB until our test in April.
However, this also didn’t work as we have a number of pedigree Hereford bulls to sell to farmers in the coming fortnight. I was also informed that because our annual test was so close (ix weeks away) that we would be covering the cost of this test.
Besides the absurdity of being a virtually zero-risk herd that has never had TB, and being locked up for one animal that had been sold over half a year earlier, my main concern was my cows.
They are big ladies. When I referred to Naomi Campbell, I should have added that it would have been a very plus-size Naomi Campbell.
Another supermodel once famously said she wouldn’t get out of bed for less than £10,000.
Anyone familiar with the Hereford breed will know that this sentiment also holds true, except money is replaced with a full bucket of nuts and coaxing, and this coaxing is done on a good day when they aren’t heavily pregnant, hormonal and weighing at least a tonne.
“I’m on board with the TB eradication programme, but this new system has actually created an animal welfare problem,” I told the vet.
Again, there was sympathy but clearly the computer was saying no to anything but an almost immediate test.
Our local vet came out and tested the young stock and bulls first before moving onto the cows. There were cows with day-old baby calves, who everyone knows are at their most dangerous, and there were cows due to give birth any minute.
Every time one of the in-calf cows forced her way up the crush I crossed my fingers and prayed she’d make it through.
However, one of them got stuck. The vet and I looked at each other nervously. The cow started to panic and fell down on her knees. She couldn’t get up.
She had been close to the back of the crush so we tried to make her go backwards, but being a Hereford, she did the opposite and staggered further up, only to fall down again. Eventually, we got her out and the test was over.
As we waited for results, I reflected on how horrible the experience was. My grandmother felt like the herd she’d built up was being accused of spreading disease, and my mind was racing, wondering what I’d do with all the pedigree bulls if we did actually have TB. It’s a scenario so many farm families have faced.
The reading day came and once again, all the cows had to go back up the cattle crush. I don’t know if I’m alone in feeling like I hold my breath until the vet gives the all clear, but thankfully, he did give the all-clear and as a family, we collectively breathed easy.
The TB programme is undoubtedly necessary and expected to cost €1bn in total up to 2030, but at some stage someone needs to take into account the emotional toll on farmers as well.
Hannah Quinn-Mulligan is a journalist and an organic beef and dairy farmer; templeroedairy.ie