The First Breakfast…
I was all set to post about yesterday’s Goodwill Games… it was such a wonderful day, filled with frosty breath clouds, dozens of happy galloping kids, mountains of meat pies, gallons of coffee and ribbons fluttering in the breeze.
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However Mr Incredible put paid to that scheme. He yelled out for me to ‘come down to the yards PRONTO’ (or words to that effect) just as I was finished coffee #2 for the morning and settling in at the computer to check out yesterday’s action photos. I reluctantly arose – clad in my pastel candy-striped pajama pants, my white t-shirt, my maroon puffy parker and my slippers. Hearing the urgency in his voice, I made the executive decision not to protest my state of un-ready-for-the-yards-dress, flung on my rubber boots, and trotted off after him.
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A cow we recently purchased had gone into labour in a paddock near the house. Now that’s not so unusual. But she is not just any cow. She is a black bawly (white-faced) cow, carrying an ’embryo transfer’ calf (when a frozen embryo made of extracted eggs from a donor cow of good breeding, and the semen collected from a specially bred bull, is implanted into a third animal for gestation). We had been watching her carefully, to ensure this arrival made it safely on the ground.
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She had ‘bagged up’ (made a good lot of milk) and was looking very close to calving in the last few days. This morning, Mr I had noticed crows collecting around her down the paddock, and two little hooves poking out. He decided it was time to help her out.
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I have to say, I have helped ‘pull’ a calf before, but never (a) one worth as much as this one, and (b) with much success. To explain, our cows generally give birth out in the paddock, to calves they have helped create. Usually their own genetics help shape the calf’s resulting birth size, allowing for an easy birth. It is rare that any have calving problems but when they do, by the time we find them and get them into a yard, the calf has been through a lot of stress. So I was concerned and trying to prepare myself for a worst-case scenario.
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We put the cow into the crush (race) and tied a rope to each little protruding hoof (still soft, I noticed) and pulled rhythmically, giving her time to recover and try and help push as well tugged. I slid my arm into the calf’s head to try and ease that part of it forward, while Mr I pulled on the ropes. After about 20 minutes, we made progress, with the head becoming visible. The calf’s tongue was lolling out from it’s mouth and its eyes rolled back in its head – I have to admit that my heart sank. It just didn’t look good.
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Then a hoof pulled back slightly and the long pale pink tongue moved. My heart leapt – it was alive! We put renewed efforts into pulling on the ropes. Suddenly, with a push from mama cow, the head slithered towards us and two confused eyes glared at us from amongst the birth debris. My heart was doing a fair impression of an Irish jig in my chest and we called at each other to pull harder. At this stage I was cradling the front end of a calf against my chest. My white-t-shirt-clad chest. My maroon puff parka was already a goner – birthing bits smeared left, right and centre. I could not have cared less. The hips of the calf appeared stuck, and we maneuvered ourselves to try and free the half-born bovine. And any thoughts of my future laundry challenges went right out the window.
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After several minutes of contorting ourselves, we finally felt something give. Whoosh. Slithering and sliding into our arms and down onto the ground: one slick, slimy, dark red… bull calf. We grinned at each other in the silence. I felt like doing some high kicks, Las Vegas style. I may have actually attempted this (can’t/don’t want to recall!). I let the cow out of the crush and round to her baby, who Mr I had quickly dragged out from the crush and into the adjacent yard. For a few seconds she ignored him. Then instinct kicked in and she approached, sniffed and then finally, began licking the birth sac from his wet hide.
We quickly evacuated the yard to let her do her job in peace and watched on for a few minutes in awe. Something that happens all the time out here – baby calves arriving, their mamas cleaning their coats and stimulating their little bodies into action. But we were a part of this one. And the feeling was incredible.
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I plan to shut up now, and let the photos to the talking.
(Please know I did wash my hands before grabbing the Nikon)
Introducing Little Red and his mother, Big Bawly.
As you can see, it wasn’t all smooth sailing.
Little Red tried to stand up within a couple of minutes of his arrival, crashing back into the dirt as each unsteady effort failed. He even slid under the fence and into the next yard at one point. But the two eventually got their act together, he got his pins under him and staggered into position. And the First Breakfast was had.
*Sigh*
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Now if anyone has any laundry hints for getting afterbirth from white t-shirts, I’m all ears!
And just to help you visualise what I am dealing with:
Sorry.
(Hey, I did put a star on her girl bits to save some embarrassment!)
18 Comments
Kate
He is SOO cute!! And so big. No wonder mama needed some help. He reminds me of the baby moose i see all the time round these parts. Those big floppy ears, he must have Brahma in him eh? So why did you put him in the surrogate mom? What is the advantage? Is it so the real mama doesnt have to have so many calves? It seems like a risky thing, but maybe only when they are big bull babies? Sorry, too many questions!
Such a great experience. I've been able to help pull a calf before and bottle feed one. It is amazing how quickly you get attached!
And i would just chuck the shirt 🙂
traceelements
Wow. Just… wow!
(Yeah, chuck the shirt eh…)
Paint Girl
What a morning! I am so happy that everything turned out well, oh, except the white shirt! I'd also throw it away.
Such a cute calf! And mama isn't so bad looking herself!
Mom L
What a handsome little boy! It has to feel amazing to be part of that. Good job!!
Nancy in Atlanta
Leenie
Woohoo! Glad the little guy and his mom are okay. Good work. Been to calf pulls with good and bad outcomes. Isn't LIFE great!
jeanie
I think Big Bawly may need a whole constellation!
Anonymous
What a dazed look that poor baby calf has! well done giving mr I a hand, but I would suggest after washing that white shirt that it go into the rag bag (ick). Between you and PW I will NEVER complain about my dirty city clothes again 🙂
signed
theresa in alberta
Debby
Good job! I am so damn impressed that you never forget to take pictures. The calf is darn cute. I stopped into my sister's to see if she was a grandma yet, and she showed me their new calf. I am of fairly strong stomach, and the birth debris did not disturb me…until I turned around and saw the dog eating it. Gag.
Gotta say, BB…I don't know nuthin' bout birthin' no calfs.
Cactus Jack Splash
Good afternoon!
You have won an award, go to my blog tomorrow morning to pick it up
Jayne
I've pulled a calf or two but none worth a motza like that one!
Gorgeous little bugger 🙂
A Novel Woman
Um, there is no star NO STAR on her girl bits, just long red stringy unidentifiable bits. At least, no bits I want to identify.
But that calf, oh, what a cutie pie!
A Novel Woman
ps My word ver was poode.
and I'm guessing he did.
The Old Gray Egg
So is that doe eyed, droopy eared, specially bred calf a purebred Brahma? And is that five ear tags that I count on the white faced surrogate mom? She must rattle when she shakes off flies. Is it unusual for you to be calving in your early winter? We generally try to wait until warmer spring weather. Congratulations on the successful delivery.
Helz
Big Sigh of Relief there guys… How Good is it when things go right ??? Think your white T-Shirt may have the crayon thru it though !!!
Bush Babe
TOGE – yes, there is quite a high Brahman content in this calf. He is Brangus, consisting of approx 75% Brahman through his forebears. Cute dumbo ears, huh??
ANW – you better thank me for putting that red star there girl – if you look harder you will see I DID cover SOME of it all up!!! Heh.
Jayne – isn't he though? (said like a proud Ma!)
CJS – well thanks mate!!! WIll check it out…
Debby – the placenta… yep. I was hoping the cow would eat hers (supposed to be good for them) but she didn't. Suspect the crows did. (Don't think about it!)
Theresa – can I admit here I washed the shirt (twice) and it's fine. No residue at all. Squeaky clean… Amazing! Of course if dogs start following me, I shall bin it anyway!
Jeanie – what the??
Leenie and Mom L – you said it!! Nice when it's a happy ending…
PaintGirl, Trace and Kate – see my response to Theresa. Sorry. Waste not, want not!
And FYI – the little tacker is going great guns. Will keep you posted!
🙂
BB
Bush Babe
Oops… Helz you commented during the hour (or 5) I took to write that last lot of responses!! I do love it when a plan comes together. Thanks for dropping by again!
🙂
Kelly
Fascinating story (and pixs)! Fortunately (for me) I never see our calves until they're already out and in the process of being cleaned up. I always tell my husband to make sure he's wearing plastic gloves before he goes sticking his hands up those private cow places. I won't get into the details on why….
Count me in the majority on just tossing that white tee.
~*Autumn*~
That was amazing! I am sorry you had to loose the parka and white t-shirt in the process, but that's just another day of shopping ahead of you. That little calf is so cute and I'm glad that the mothering instinct with the cow kicked in… otherwise it would be a really rough road ahead. Congrats BB!