While not everyone jumps up with a start at 4:30 am, farmers on calf watch do. I got up, hastily dressed, and put on shoes so that I could walk to the barn. I was impressed to get there as quickly as possible.
It’s hard to know when a
heifer is going to calve, but I had an approximate due date using a bovine
gestation calendar and the date the heifer had been serviced by the bull. The date was fast approaching and the
previous day the birthing hormones had triggered a production in colostrum causing Misty's teats to swell significantly. I had
put her in a section of the barn by herself so that I could monitor her. Reaching the barn, I turned on the
lights. I was right to be in a
hurry. There she stood with tiny hooves
protruding from her backside. I knew
immediately something was off. The hooves
looked like rear hooves, not front hooves.
The baby was being born breech….. backward…..and she was going to need
help.
I ran back to the house and
urged Mike to wake up quickly and get dressed.
I didn’t know how much time we had.
How long since the water sack had busted? How long would it take to get the calf to
move down the birth canal and be delivered?
Was it already dead? Would we
have to call the vet and if we did, how many hours until they would make it to
our rural farm? I went back to the barn
to fret. I started to try to move Misty
to the head chute so that all would be ready when Mike arrived but decided to wait. Perhaps we could do it
easily and she would not have to be subjected to that type of restraint. I kept peering down the path in the
dark. Where was Mike? How long did it take a man to put on some
pants and a pair of boots? Why was he
taking so long? I guess it really wasn’t
a long time, but as I stood fretting, it seemed forever.
Finally, Mike arrived at the
barn and agreed with me that the calf was breech and needed to be pulled immediately. I had forgotten the chains we use that go
around the calf’s feet, allowing the person delivering the calf to pull evenly
and firmly. I had to run back to the
house again. As I did so, I cursed myself for being so forgetful! I was wasting precious time. I got back, made loops in the chain, and
placed the loops on the calf’s ankles, the only part of the little calf that had
managed to make way into the big world. Mike attached a rope to the center of
the chains that were wrapped around the calf’s feet. He pulled with Misty’s contractions. She did not freak out. She stood stoic, trusting us. I couldn’t believe that she was being so
cooperative without any type of restraint, but I was thankful. Her calmness in the situation meant things
would go easier for everyone, but especially for her and the calf. I tried to suppress my feelings of despair
that the calf might have already suffocated in the womb. Mike pulled a couple of times, and the calf
didn’t move. We tied the rope to a pole
and Mike was able to put more downward pressure on the rope. Misty contracted and Mike pulled. The calf moved. Constant pressure on the rope and Misty’s
straining produced a calf in a relatively short amount of time once the calf
had been disengaged. As it hit the ground
my heart lurched. It’s dead, I
thought. But no! There was a ragged breath and then
another! Mike cleared the calf’s nose
and Misty turned and began licking and calling to him. “How wonderful,” I exclaimed. Sometimes when a cow has struggled with birth, she is a bit reluctant to encourage her calf, especially if humans have
intervened and she has endured a lot of pain.
This is especially true if the calf is the animal’s first as was the
case with Misty. She didn’t hesitate to
love her baby and began licking him clean!
I got some towels and helped her rub him. He was gasping for air but alive! Soon it was evident that he had a will to
live. He might have been born backward,
but from the time he hit the ground, his desire was to move forward! “That’s what it takes, baby boy! Determination”, I told him as his big eyes searched
my face with that startled expression of a newborn that is seeing the world for
the first time. Once we realized that
Misty was ok and going to accept the baby, we left them alone for about half an
hour to bond.
Soon the calf began to
respond to his mother’s calls. He tried
to stand, struggled, and fell back down. Bull
calves are often slower to find their feet than heifer calves, but this little
guy was aggressive, especially considering the details of his birth. I was pleased. Then I noticed his feet were curling under in
the front at the ankles. This is not
uncommon and usually a minor condition that doesn’t typically require any intervention. Within a few days, the contracted ligaments usually
stretch as the calf uses his legs and the situation is resolved. I could see, however, that this was a more
extreme case and those feet that were curling under were keeping the calf from standing. We helped him nurse since he could not get up
on his own and then we left mother and baby together and went back to the
house.
About an hour later, we went
back to the barn and helped the calf to nurse again. I asked Mike if he thought maybe we should
splint the calf’s legs. I felt that if we could get the legs straight and supported
by splints, he would be able to get up on his own. I knew that in extreme
cases it is sometimes done. Mike thought
it was probably a good idea and I ran back to the house to see what I could
find for supplies. We tried popsicle
sticks but they broke. I needed
something stronger. Lincoln Log flat
boards to the rescue! They were the
perfect thickness, and we could cut one in half for each leg. We applied the makeshift splints, and I
wrapped his legs in gauze and then we tied it all together with pieces of
string. We could have also used duct
tape, but the string was handy. The
little guy was eager to try out his newly splinted legs and soon worked until
he was on his feet! Yay! Now we knew he could nurse on his own. Momma was being a trooper. She was standing over us in concern but not
aggressive toward us at all. In fact,
she would alternately lick him and then lick us!
The rest of the day the calf hobbled around on his splinted legs, haltingly at first and then with more confidence and strength. He made me smile at his courage. I expressed my thankfulness to the Creator for nudging me awake and impressing upon me to hurry to the barn, not delaying making my morning cup of tea. As I watched the calf hobbling around with such determination, he reminded me of Chester on the old television series, Gunsmoke. Some names come easily and this one seemed like a good fit. Twenty-four hours later, we were able to remove the splints and Chester's legs are straight and sound! Momma and Baby are doing great!