Last Tuesday, early in the AM, and way out in the big pasture, our old cow Gert delivered her 11th calf.  This one is a very cute bull calf named Cullen; I was thinking Puck or Bean, but I guess its Cullen.  I could have even gone with Balloch, Celtic for “from the pasture”, but I guess its Cullen.  I’m sensing a name change in his future, so, for now at least, lets just call him Puck.

Puck is our final 2011 calf.  All his young herd mates were born in the spring, not sure why Gert’s out of synch.

5-2-11

Cows are pretty tough. Last night Adel's water broke (she came with that name, and yes, she's a cow). This morning there was no calf, and Adel was still not in labor, way too long, and my squeeze chute is not operable. So, I have a few choices, or maybe I should say I have few choices. I can tie her in a loading chute and check to see if the calf is alive, or I can butcher her, or I can call a vet and have him stand there while I check to see if the calf is alive, and, if so, he can help me pull the calf, but it’s been a long time since her water broke. It’s a dilemma. I decide to call the vet. I tie Adel’s head at the end of a loading chute, and she’s not happy. She’s a big cow; low to the ground, wide and powerful. This time I did not get any fingers crushed, thanks Adel. When the vet arrives I climb back into the chute behind the cow, and we check the calf. It’s alive; we’re both pretty sure. So, we try to pull it by hand. No luck. She has an enormous amount of space in her womb, but she’s not dilated enough. Injections are given. Now the chains and wire come out, I’ve been down this road before. The vet works on the feet, and I’ve got the head. We try a few times to get the calf out at least to the knees, no luck. It will take a tremendous amount of force to get this calf out. That’s never good. The calf is alive, so what’s the best course? Sacrifice the mother? Probably not. Sacrifice the calf? It’s alive, so I think not. The vet suggests we do a C Section. I’ve seen it done, but not on a cow, and I’m skeptical. I back the cow out of the chute, and tie her off in a pen. She’s not happy, and I’m doubtful of a good outcome. The vet shaves her left side, gives some local injections, and a little morphine. We blindfold her. Now there’s nothing for me to do for a bit, except calm the cow while the vet cuts her open. First through the hide, and then through three layers of muscle dangerously close to the rumen on the other side, and then, rumen pushed aside, into the uterus. Now I can get my hands in, and get hold of the calf. The vet holds the uterus. Did I mention that throughout this procedure the cow was standing, and basically unrestrained except for her head? Cows are tough. I moved the calf out to the grass. It’s a boy. Susan and I cleaned him up, and then I went back to clean Adel’s uterus, and then each subsequent layer as the vet stitched her up. She’s still standing, she’s not happy, and the calf, Little Caesar, is nursing. Tonight cow and calf are doing well, and I’m cautiously optimistic. It’s the best outcome I could have hoped for.

Update: Here’s Little Caesar at about 4 months. Adel continues to do well.

We’ve had epic amounts of heavy, wet snow, and a big melt’s coming.   No snow blower for the tractor, and the other person that plows is out of town for 8 weeks.  Today the sun is shining and the snow is crusty and deep.  All the neighbors are plowed out; yep, I’ve been kicking it old school plowing miles of road with the loader, fun. We’ve had over 90 inches of snow this month with more than 15 inches of water, and 85 of those inches fell over the past 2 weeks.  I’m thinking we must have broken some records.  Highs have been above freezing most days, so much has melted, but we’ve still got several feet of heavy, compacted snow on the ground.  I’ve headed out to town a couple times this past week to deliver eggs, get feed, and to get some winter tires with extremely aggressive tread for my truck.  I’ve got everything well plowed, so I took the new tires out in the deep snow for a test, they feel good, no slipping even pushing snow against the front grill.

Just had to take a break from this email to see what was causing the dogs to go crazy.  Someone was snowshoeing in the back gate dragging a sled, he wanted to pick up a cut and wrapped lamb for a neighbor, and buy 20 pounds of ground beef.  I need to remember to send a bill.

Last Thursday or Friday, can’t recall which day, we had a break in the storm in the late afternoon.  Skies cleared, the sun came out, the wind died down, and I thought I finally had an opportunity to plow fresh snow, instead of packed, frozen snow that had time to consolidate overnight.  About two feet had fallen since I plowed the day before, and, even though it was wet, this fresh snow was pushing easily in front of the tractor.  At about 4:30, after my first pass down the road, I was heading back out when Susan told me there was a cow missing, so much for getting the road finished.  I headed out into the pasture, breaking through waist deep snow to get to the cow’s path.  I went through one paddock, and then a second paddock, across a small stream into a third paddock, and there was the heifer, under a tree with her newborn calf.  This heifer’s name is Dummy Cow, used to be Dummy Calf, and I may have mentioned her before.  She had to be taught to suck, and after a week of training she had to be taught to get up and nurse.  She had dummy calf syndrome, you can look it up in your Merck vet manual.  Very frustrating to have to go out and pick up a calf several times a day, and put it on her mother, otherwise she’d just lie there and die.  It was fortunate the mother stuck around so long, and put up with being milked, etc.  Anyway, I was concerned about this cow’s ability to be a proper mother, based on her history.  Another storm was on the way, and I needed to get the calf and cow into the barn, I figured I would put her inside with Electra and her calf, so she’d have a role model.  I picked up the cold, wet calf, and started down the cow path with her.  About every hundred feet I’d stop, and get the cow to follow me, she kept going back to where she’d calved, this is typical and why I really don’t like to move them so soon, but it would be dark in no time, and then it would be real cold, real fast.  Without too much trouble I got Electra, Volt, Dummy, and her calf inside, fed, and watered.  The calf was strong, and about seventy pounds.  With a little light left, I got back on the plowing, and plowed until after dark.  It was a good day, everything went as well as could be expected.  That night we got more snow, and lots of it.

Dummy and her calf are still inside with Electra and Volt, until things thaw a bit.  Dummy’s still unnamed calf is doing great, and it turns out that Dummy is a very attentive mother; Susan says she deserves a new name.

Update:  The calf’s name is Sunshine.