Yesterday I had a full day scheduled, beginning with exercising my horse, returning borrowed toddler cots to a friend, getting to an appointment at 9am in a neighboring town, taking a riding lesson at 1pm and then mowing fence lines before the day ended. Getting an early start, at a little before 7am, I headed out to the mountain field with one bucket of medicated mineral and one of sweet grain for the main herd. This year, I had decided to try to manage the flies through the cow’s mineral supplements and wanted to get them started on it. Hearing the sound of my 4-wheel mule, the herd came running to the troughs, moo’ing with excitement at the prospect of sweet grain, also known as cracker jack.
As the cows jostled for position around the troughs, I heard a distant moo’ing coming from a far corner of the field. Instantly I realized that Pippie, who had been close to having her calf, was in labor. She had seen the other cows running, heard the cracker jack hit the trough and was moo’ing forlornly at being stuck in the corner of the field birthing a calf. My carefully scheduled day was in shambles.
Checking on Pippie, I found her in full labor with one hoof already presented. I guessed the calf would be on the ground within 30-45 minutes.
Since I had some time, I decided to head back to the barn, feed the other animals and let Sundance out to graze – exercising him would not happen today. After about 20 minutes, I was back to the Mountain field to be with Pippie. This time, I parked the mule outside of the fence and walked in so the other cows would not get excited, thinking I was back with more cracker jack. Pippie had not progressed as far as I expected, just that one hoof was still showing. Crossing my fingers, and saying a few prayers to the cattle gods, I had to wait almost ten more minutes before seeing the beautiful sight of a second hoof, pad down. Pippie started to alternate laying down, then standing up, each time the calf would present a little farther.
Then in a quick woosh, the calf was safely on the ground!
As all good cow mama’s will do, Pippie immediately jumped up and began licking her calf to dry it off and stimulate it to breathe and move.
Having watched many calves being born, to me the most endearing part is the soft moo’ing sounds that the cows make when cleaning their freshly born babies. A lot of this moo’ing also helps create the strong bond between the mama and her calf.
Typically, I let the pair have some time together so the calf can stand and nurse before bothering them to checking the calf’s gender, but today I had things to do. Pippie is one of the cows that I can touch, so as soon as she cleaned up the baby, I stepped in to check. Pippie gave me a moo and a look, but I whispered, “Just checking on what you had” and patted the side of her face. She stepped back, I lifted the calf’s leg … a heifer! Pippie’s first girl and another keeper since her father is not Shane.
I managed to barely get to my appointment on time, and accomplished everything on my list except for the mowing. Around noon, I checked on the calf again and found her standing and nursing, a strong, healthy little heifer. As with all of our newborns, I gave her an intranasal dose of Inforce3 vaccine to prevent respiratory disease.
Early last evening, we went back to the Mountain field so Bill could see the calf and to check on the pair one more time. Pippie’s little heifer was all curled up and napping in the tall, soft grass. Witnessing the amazing process of welcoming a new calf to the herd will never get old for me, each birth is a miracle of nature.