Feb. 17, 2002 ~ You know you're a country girl when
you help deliver a calf, find yourself covered in dust, grime, and calf goo, and honestly think that you don't need to take a shower, because you already took one that morning. What a goofball, that Carol. See, you didn't even have to say it -- I said it for you.
True story, that. Sarah Jane had been in labor for much too long and was making no progress, so we knew she needed some help. Just how we wanted to spend the day! So we had to pull that calf (there is a LOT of pulling involved), and I would have sworn that there was no way that animal was going to fit through that opening. Well, that was the problem... the calf was big, and the mama was young and small, and it was her first baby. She was terrified and just plain worn out, too. When the calf finally came out, Larry quickly moved on to other things, but I stayed on as maternity nurse. Sarah stretched out on her side, her head down, eyes rolled back in her head, and I patted her, stroked her for a minute. But just for a minute or two. Then I told her that nap-time was over, and it was time for her to take care of her baby. She turned her head to look at the little bundle of fur and hooves and head behind her, and she had the most AMAZED look on her face... as if to say, "My GAWD, do you mean THAT thing came out of ME? I thought I just had to poop!"
Mama struggled to her feet and tentatively nosed the newcomer, who snorted and nosed her back. Sarah licked him for a bit, then plopped back down in exhaustion. I tried to stay out of it; I usually do. It's best to let the animals work things out for themselves, whenever possible. But the cows MUST lick the newborns, to stimulate their circulation and to get things moving. Sarah was just so worn out that she had no energy for motherhood, so a couple of times I made her get up, thinking she would lick the calf. She did, just a little, but then she collapsed again. Poor girl was so tired... no telling how long she'd been struggling before we found her in the back pasture. But it was a cold day, and the little one was shivering and was soaking wet, and we couldn't have that.
I wound up having to be surrogate mother to the calf, rubbing it with my hands until *I* was worn out, too. But the little bull perked up and started moving around, and eventually, after a lot of rubbing, he warmed up.
We got up a few times during the night, checking on them, and they seemed to be fine. Today they are out in the pasture with the herd, and are happy little moo-faces.
It's so nice when I can truthfully say, "And they lived happily ever after!" Pretty much, anyway. We've had a run of bad luck, have lost a couple of calves recently, so it was a big relief to be able to save one.
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We bought a used car yesterday. It was SCARY. I hope that nothing falls off of it and it doesn't catch on fire or otherwise turn out to be a terrible car. It seems like a pretty good one, and it was in our price range, and it's more reliable than the old clunker (our backup car) that son had to drive to school these past couple of weeks.
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