Udderly Amazing
Witnessing a calf's birth spices up Saturday afternoon
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| Photo by Barb Miller |
It was a Saturday, not unordinary from the many weekends I spend in a small town in Michigan. As I woke that morning in a warm and cuddly bed, I could see the sun was shining over the flat terrain of the rural area by which I was surrounded. The only real plan for the day was to not have a plan. I was ready to start the day with an open mind, not knowing what nearby small town or farmer I would visit.
It wasn’t too long after I had taken a shower and was settling into the couch to do a little studying that I noticed the sun shining through the large glass window, warming my chilly toes. As I was admiring the September weather outside, I saw a small bird sitting on a dowel protruding from a weathered birdfeeder. That little brown bird seemed to be looking straight at me. I clapped loudly and scared the bird away. I didn’t have time for distractions today; I decided I was going to finish my homework.
After reviewing about 20 note cards, I was interrupted once again. I was asked if I wanted to ride along to a nearby dairy farm to deliver some old newspapers used for bedding the cattle. Of course, I couldn’t pass up this opportunity— I love farms, barns and animals. The ride across the countryside didn’t take long and for that I was thankful. There were hours of studying waiting for me back at the house.
As we pulled up to the first large red barn covered with birds, all I could see were fat cows and mud puddles mixed with wet straw. I was told to stay in the truck so my white shoes wouldn’t get soiled as the newspapers were positioned in the proper place to be shredded. Me, stay in the truck? I wanted to get out and go see what those cows were doing, even if all that interested them was what we had to deliver. In no time I was out of the truck and leaning through the slotted wooden weathered gates. Some cows were really fat and others had lumps sticking out from their sides. This must be the farm’s sick pen.
One cow was especially fat. I figured she must be bloated until I clapped my hands a few times to scare her into turning around. As she turned, my curiosity grew. I saw something white jutting out from her rear end. Thinking that this must be some new type of technology used to cure prolapsed rectums, I called my friend over to take a look. I asked if he could identify what the white object was. It only took one look for him to respond to me that the white object was a shoe. I considered the thought of a cow eating a shoe then not being able to pass it.
With a solid, loud MUHOOOOOOO, a glimmering, slimy red and white liquid seeped from the white object. All at once, everything clicked. This was no sick pen I was looking at and that certainly wasn’t a shoe. That was a calf’s leg!
We hurried down to the next farm where we could find the farmer on his tractor getting silage ready for the afternoon feeding. As we briefly told him what we had just seen, he didn’t seem as shocked as we were. He was really thankful we had come to get him, since the cow was already four days overdue.
At the farm, the farmer explained to us what he was going to do to help the cow have her calf so she wouldn’t be in pain very long. First, the farmer guided the cow to an area bedded with fresh straw where she would be away from the other nosy cows.
Reaching into the cow, the farmer explained how he thought this calf would be a heifer because of her small size, which is good because then she could join the herd and be milked. If it were a bull calf, he would most likely be sold. A slender, tight-link, three-foot chain was placed around the two front legs of the calf. This was rather tricky for the farmer since the slippery calf was still inside the cow. This shiny silver chain would be used by the farmer to pull the calf out—making the cow’s labor shorter.
As the farmer began pulling in long, steady, strong pulls, the cow let out an ear curdling sound that can be described as a mix between a sick dog yelping for help and a cow that hadn’t eaten in a week. This pulling and mooing seemed to go on forever, although I’m sure it lasted only a few minutes.
In no time I could see the white shiny head of the calf peeking out from between its two front legs that were still attached to the chains. With just a few more pulls by the farmer, the calf was laying on the ground completely disoriented. Thankful the calf was alive, the farmer tickled its nose with a piece of yellow straw to encourage a sneeze. Once the sneeze came the calf was breathing heavily.
As the farmer dragged the calf onto some drier straw and newspaper bedding, I wondered if the calf was a heifer like the farmer had hoped, or a bull. As the farmer peered at the calf, he announced that it was a bull. That didn’t really matter much to him—any calf is a good calf, as long as it’s alive, and this one definitely was. It took a few minutes for the cow to join up with her calf and begin licking him clean.
I stood there frozen, staring at this incredible couple. It was time to go back to the house.
The calf was born in front of my eyes. I didn’t miss anything. I wanted to see it all over again, but there was no rewind button to push. There hadn’t been much content to my day in this small, flat, rural town before I saw that cow and calf duo. I would have missed seeing something I have never experienced before if I had stayed home to study.
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