Weaning Romeo

Our steer calf, Romeo, is now almost seven months old. He was born on Valentine’s Day (hence his name) and we steered him when he was about ten days old.

He’s a sweet-natured little boy and lets us pet and scratch him without a problem. As you’ll see, this turned out to be a good thing.

When we butchered his mama, Filet, we timed it so Romeo would be old enough to wean without a problem. After Filet disappeared from his life, we monitored Romeo carefully to make sure he wouldn’t be unduly distressed. In fact, he seemed to barely even miss her, go figure.

Part of this is because he rapidly discovered Maggie is a “universal donor” (i.e., very generous with her milk). Romeo was aggressively draining Maggie dry, even depriving her calf Stormy of milk (and Stormy is too young to wean). We had to do something.

One of our fall projects is to build an awning on the back side of the barn to offer the cows more shelter during the winter. Under this awning, we could conceivably build a pen into which we could lock Romeo at night, thus allowing Maggie to “recharge” her milk supply overnight so I could milk in the morning.

There were two things wrong with this plan. One, it would take weeks to complete the project, which meant I wouldn’t be milking during this interim. And two, if I resumed milking Maggie after locking away Romeo at night, it would mean she was providing milk for three “calves” (Stormy, Romeo, and me). That is too much to ask of a young first-time cow. (Cows give more milk with each succeeding calf.)

So we were stymied on how to keep Romeo away from Maggie without going to the extreme length of keeping him in a separate pasture. Meanwhile, I wasn’t able to milk Maggie.

Then something interesting happened. We had arranged for an AI (artificial insemination) expert named Andrea to come out and breed Maggie for us. (Last year, we bred her to a neighbor’s young bull, but they no longer have him.) Breeding Maggie by AI meant we could select the sire. This is a whole blog post unto itself, so I’ll put this process up in the future.

But in passing, we mentioned to Andrea our frustrations with Romeo’s persistent nursing. Andrea asked us why we didn’t use a weaning ring.

A weaning ring? What’s that?

What followed was a completely new chapter in our bovine education. We’ve owned cows since 1998 and, literally, we’ve never even caught wind of a weaning ring.

Essentially it’s a gizmo that is inserted into a calf’s nostrils and tightened on the septum. The weaner prevents the calf from being able to reach the cow’s teats, but it in no way hinders it from eating. Additionally, the weaner is armed with really sharp spikes. The moment the cows gets poked with these spikes, she kicks the calf away.

Enthused by this product, we immediately ordered one. (Actually, we ordered half a dozen for ten bucks. Don found a deal.)

Ours came in fluorescent orange, presumably the better to see it if it falls off in a pasture somewhere. There is a wing nut that tightens the unit into the septum.

Following the advice on a YouTube video on how to insert the ring, Don filed down any sharp bits on the two sides that would be pressed against the calf’s septum so as not to cause irritation. Additionally, he filed down a bit of the points on the spikes, because let me tell you those things are sharp! We didn’t want Maggie’s udder damaged or pierced should Romeo attack it too vigorously.

During the time it took for the weaning rings to arrive, we strategized how best to confine Romeo to get it inserted into his nose. This is where his sweet nature asserted itself. What we ended up doing was looping a rope around his neck (with a check on it so it wouldn’t tighten and strangle him), threaded the other end of the rope through a stout eye-bolt on a barn upright post, and gently drew Romeo in until he was positioned horizontal to the barn wall. When he was in the right position, Don secured the rope and I pressed him flat against the wall. (Cows, when pressed flat against a wall, don’t struggle too much.)

Don carefully inserted the nose ring into Romeo’s nostrils and gently tightened the wing nut until it wouldn’t fall out. (The dear boy held perfectly still for this.) Then we released him and made a big fuss over him, brushing and petting him. While clearly he didn’t appreciate having something shoved inside his nose, it didn’t seem to bother him too much.

I planned not to milk the next morning, wanting to give Maggie a day or two to recover, and it’s a good thing since the nose ring fell off overnight. That evening, we repeated the process of roping and confining Romeo, and Don tightened the ring tighter over the septum (again, Romeo held perfectly still). This time it held.

The poor kid looks like he has fluorescent-orange snot hanging from his nose. A couple days ago, a neighbor told us she burst out laughing the first time she saw it.

We monitored Romeo closely for the first couple of days, since we wanted to make sure the ring didn’t interfere with eating or drinking. It didn’t hinder him at all. Here he’s drinking from the water tank:

He’s having no trouble grazing or eating dry hay.

And by golly, this gizmo works. Romeo hasn’t been able to nurse even once since he started wearing it. Maggie kicks him off each time he tries, even when he tries to be gentle and sneaky. He simply can’t get the teat into his mouth, and the spikes poke Maggie’s udder.

So I’ve been getting milk again, and Stormy has been nursing avidly, possibly making up for lost time.

Interestingly, since installing the nose ring on Romeo, the first few minutes after I release Maggie from the milking stall have been chaotic. Stormy goes diving for her mother to get breakfast. Romeo also dives for Maggie to nurse, but because his nose ring pokes her whenever he tries, she kicks him off. The three animals (Maggie and both calves) are caught up in this spinning maelstrom, with Maggie circling around to evade Romeo, Romeo spinning to try to connect with Maggie, and Stormy desperately trying to hang onto a teat. I’ve learned to keep away from this scene until Romeo gives up and everyone settles down (which takes just a minute or two) lest I get kicked or slammed.

This morning, after I released Maggie from the milking stall and then released Stormy from the calf pen, it’s the first time I’ve observed Romeo not even try to go for Maggie’s udder.

Opinions vary as to how long a weaning ring should stay on the calf, from a minimum of three weeks to longer. Personally I’m inclined to keep it on for a firm six weeks, but we’ll see if it’s necessary.

A weaning ring. Will wonders never cease.

Source: http://www.rural-revolution.com/2025/09/weaning-romeo.html