Pulling a calf out of a straining heifer is not exactly what I imagined it to be, but when you live on a farm, the best adventures always begin at home. Since joining households with Real Cowboy, I have not only acquired additional dogs, horses, and a couple of donkeys, I am now responsible for cattle. Until last night the closest I had been to the actual inside of a cow was the meat aisle at Kroger's. Raising horses and reading James Herriot's veterinary adventure books does not prepare you for actually sticking your hand inside the back end of a cow in labor.
A definite necessity around a farm is a neighbor who also raises cattle. Since Kindly Rancher Neighbor has a regular day job, while I work evenings, and Other Half works nights, the neighbor had agreed to check on Cow-About-To-Pop while we were gone. His last check was at 10:30 PM. All was well. I got there about 12:30 PM. All was NOT well. Something unidentifiable was hanging out of Cow-About-To-Pop. Since I lack a veterinary degree that gifts me with fancy words to describe her condition, let's just say, she appeared to be blowing a gigantic bubble from her butt.
Hmmm... Never seen horses do that. Shouldn't there be feet there? Perhaps cows are different. Phoned Other Half to voice my concerns. Other Half is also a cop and was at that moment dealing with two prisoners who had chosen to fight him and his partner. He advised me to call Neighbor. Since Other Half sounded quite busy, I phoned Neighbor. Kindly Rancher Neighbor has left his cell phone in another room and is now sound asleep. Go check Cow. Big Bubble Butt. No baby. Cow doesn't look happy. (I wouldn't be either, Sister!)
Other Half phones. He and Partner are okay and now have two prisoners and multiple charges on them. He will come home as fast as he can. I become concerned as Other Half begins to give instructions for pulling calf out of Cow. Strange man appears in the darkness and scares the shit out of me. Not Neighbor, but next best thing! Other Half has called his son and young man is here to help. Most Excellent! Unfortunately Son and I have herded cows, penned cows, doctored cows, and cussed cows, but neither of us has ever tried to forcibly remove a calf from a cow's ass. Definitely Uncharted Territory.
Son looks at back end of Cow and announces that he hates his father. Despite her efforts to push out that calf, Big Bubble Butt in Back is about the same size. Other Half calls for an update. He informs us that we are on speaker phone and he is in the District Attorney's Office so we can't cuss. This seriously limits our conversation. Son states that this is out of our league, and decides to ride a 4 wheeler over to Neighbor's house to wake him up.
I stand with Cow and note that the rest of the herd has gathered around to watch too. One moos her encouragement, or perhaps it is sympathy. My Cow-Speak is a bit limited. Son returns to inform me that he didn't wake up Neighbor because of large, nasty Blue Heeler Dog on front porch. Makes perfect sense to me. Other Half calls for an update. I cannot help but wonder what the other folks in the District Attorney's Office thought of a man trying to coach two idiots through labor and delivery of a stuck calf. Other Half gives us a grocery list of items to collect around the house and orders to call Neighbor's father to get the home telephone number.
What he does not tell us is that Neighbor's father is a Grumpy Old Man who doesn't appreciate phone calls at 2 AM. Son informs me again that he hates his father. Grumpy Old Man agrees to call Neighbor. Maybe. It was a short conversation.
Son and I collect ropes, towels, and soap. There is a knock on front door. I am so excited that I hit myself in the head with the door as I fling it open. Practically hug Neighbor! We show him Cow with Bubble Butt. Hmmmmm.... He looks at Cow thoughtfully and comes to same conclusion that Other Half came to. Calf must be pulled out with ropes.. Son and I are feeling better because even though situation is still bad, someone else is now officially In Charge!
Cow is down. Neighbor ties her back legs together. Son and I wonder why we didn't think of that. Neighbor then starts poking and palpating bubble. A tongue pops out. And maybe a foot. Neighbor starts to feel around to sort out legs. I point out that perhaps he might want to take off his wedding ring since he might lose it inside Cow. He allows that this is a very good idea. I am happy that I could contribute something to this little adventure. Neighbor finds a nose! And a tongue. A very, large Gene Simmons/Kiss tongue. Tongue moves. Baby is still alive!!!! Neighbor states that he must tie ropes around front feet and pull Calf out. BIG calf. Small hole.
Since Neighbor is unhappy with our choices of rope, (2 lariats, and the rope from a boat anchor), he goes home to get good Calf Pulling Rope. I am given instructions to keep skin pulled back so Calf can breathe. This is easier said than done. Feet and Tongue keep pushing in front of Nose. Despite the fact that I'm not the one stuck in the cow, I feel claustrophobia closing in on me.
Out of darkness comes Ninja in black tactical police gear. Other Half is home! He takes gunbelt off and sets it beside fence. Neighbor takes off his coat. Pushing my sleeves up, I am still trying to keep my coat on, but am slowly finding it hard to keep the cow shit and blood off new Carhart jacket. Neighbor and Other Half find front feet and tie ropes around them. I am trying to keep Nose up front so Calf can breathe. Son has a halter on straining Cow and is helping her balance as Other Half and Neighbor slowly pull Gigantic Calf out.
Calf finally slides out and, to my astonishment, Other Half and Neighbor grab up his legs and begin to swing him back and forth. (If I'm lying, I'm dying!) Two grown men were swinging a 90 pound bull calf like boys on a playground. This begged for an explanation.
"To remove fluid from the lungs."
Son and I nodded heads. Made sense now. They set Calf beside Momma Cow. She starts to lick it. Other Half and Neighbor are now coated in cow shit, blood, and goo. It is 3 AM. Son and Neighbor have to go to work early in the morning. Other Half still has to complete Arrest Report.
I went to bed at 5 AM. Other Half finished his report and came to bed as the sun was coming up. I checked Momma and Calf at 9:30 AM when I fed the horses. They were fine. Neighbor and Son had already left for work. They might have had 4 hours of sleep.
I looked out at that calf flicking his ears in the morning sun and thought about cowboys. Real cowboys. Being a real cowboy isn't about rodeo games. It isn't about the truck a man drives, the clothes he wears, or the brand of tobacco he chews. Being a real cowboy is about blood and cow shit. It's about coming over at 2 AM to help a neighbor pull a calf. It's about swinging calves in the moonlight.
A definite necessity around a farm is a neighbor who also raises cattle. Since Kindly Rancher Neighbor has a regular day job, while I work evenings, and Other Half works nights, the neighbor had agreed to check on Cow-About-To-Pop while we were gone. His last check was at 10:30 PM. All was well. I got there about 12:30 PM. All was NOT well. Something unidentifiable was hanging out of Cow-About-To-Pop. Since I lack a veterinary degree that gifts me with fancy words to describe her condition, let's just say, she appeared to be blowing a gigantic bubble from her butt.
Hmmm... Never seen horses do that. Shouldn't there be feet there? Perhaps cows are different. Phoned Other Half to voice my concerns. Other Half is also a cop and was at that moment dealing with two prisoners who had chosen to fight him and his partner. He advised me to call Neighbor. Since Other Half sounded quite busy, I phoned Neighbor. Kindly Rancher Neighbor has left his cell phone in another room and is now sound asleep. Go check Cow. Big Bubble Butt. No baby. Cow doesn't look happy. (I wouldn't be either, Sister!)
Other Half phones. He and Partner are okay and now have two prisoners and multiple charges on them. He will come home as fast as he can. I become concerned as Other Half begins to give instructions for pulling calf out of Cow. Strange man appears in the darkness and scares the shit out of me. Not Neighbor, but next best thing! Other Half has called his son and young man is here to help. Most Excellent! Unfortunately Son and I have herded cows, penned cows, doctored cows, and cussed cows, but neither of us has ever tried to forcibly remove a calf from a cow's ass. Definitely Uncharted Territory.
Son looks at back end of Cow and announces that he hates his father. Despite her efforts to push out that calf, Big Bubble Butt in Back is about the same size. Other Half calls for an update. He informs us that we are on speaker phone and he is in the District Attorney's Office so we can't cuss. This seriously limits our conversation. Son states that this is out of our league, and decides to ride a 4 wheeler over to Neighbor's house to wake him up.
I stand with Cow and note that the rest of the herd has gathered around to watch too. One moos her encouragement, or perhaps it is sympathy. My Cow-Speak is a bit limited. Son returns to inform me that he didn't wake up Neighbor because of large, nasty Blue Heeler Dog on front porch. Makes perfect sense to me. Other Half calls for an update. I cannot help but wonder what the other folks in the District Attorney's Office thought of a man trying to coach two idiots through labor and delivery of a stuck calf. Other Half gives us a grocery list of items to collect around the house and orders to call Neighbor's father to get the home telephone number.
What he does not tell us is that Neighbor's father is a Grumpy Old Man who doesn't appreciate phone calls at 2 AM. Son informs me again that he hates his father. Grumpy Old Man agrees to call Neighbor. Maybe. It was a short conversation.
Son and I collect ropes, towels, and soap. There is a knock on front door. I am so excited that I hit myself in the head with the door as I fling it open. Practically hug Neighbor! We show him Cow with Bubble Butt. Hmmmmm.... He looks at Cow thoughtfully and comes to same conclusion that Other Half came to. Calf must be pulled out with ropes.. Son and I are feeling better because even though situation is still bad, someone else is now officially In Charge!
Cow is down. Neighbor ties her back legs together. Son and I wonder why we didn't think of that. Neighbor then starts poking and palpating bubble. A tongue pops out. And maybe a foot. Neighbor starts to feel around to sort out legs. I point out that perhaps he might want to take off his wedding ring since he might lose it inside Cow. He allows that this is a very good idea. I am happy that I could contribute something to this little adventure. Neighbor finds a nose! And a tongue. A very, large Gene Simmons/Kiss tongue. Tongue moves. Baby is still alive!!!! Neighbor states that he must tie ropes around front feet and pull Calf out. BIG calf. Small hole.
Since Neighbor is unhappy with our choices of rope, (2 lariats, and the rope from a boat anchor), he goes home to get good Calf Pulling Rope. I am given instructions to keep skin pulled back so Calf can breathe. This is easier said than done. Feet and Tongue keep pushing in front of Nose. Despite the fact that I'm not the one stuck in the cow, I feel claustrophobia closing in on me.
Out of darkness comes Ninja in black tactical police gear. Other Half is home! He takes gunbelt off and sets it beside fence. Neighbor takes off his coat. Pushing my sleeves up, I am still trying to keep my coat on, but am slowly finding it hard to keep the cow shit and blood off new Carhart jacket. Neighbor and Other Half find front feet and tie ropes around them. I am trying to keep Nose up front so Calf can breathe. Son has a halter on straining Cow and is helping her balance as Other Half and Neighbor slowly pull Gigantic Calf out.
Calf finally slides out and, to my astonishment, Other Half and Neighbor grab up his legs and begin to swing him back and forth. (If I'm lying, I'm dying!) Two grown men were swinging a 90 pound bull calf like boys on a playground. This begged for an explanation.
"To remove fluid from the lungs."
Son and I nodded heads. Made sense now. They set Calf beside Momma Cow. She starts to lick it. Other Half and Neighbor are now coated in cow shit, blood, and goo. It is 3 AM. Son and Neighbor have to go to work early in the morning. Other Half still has to complete Arrest Report.
I went to bed at 5 AM. Other Half finished his report and came to bed as the sun was coming up. I checked Momma and Calf at 9:30 AM when I fed the horses. They were fine. Neighbor and Son had already left for work. They might have had 4 hours of sleep.
I looked out at that calf flicking his ears in the morning sun and thought about cowboys. Real cowboys. Being a real cowboy isn't about rodeo games. It isn't about the truck a man drives, the clothes he wears, or the brand of tobacco he chews. Being a real cowboy is about blood and cow shit. It's about coming over at 2 AM to help a neighbor pull a calf. It's about swinging calves in the moonlight.
Update on this calf: At weaning time there was discussion of what to do with this little bull calf. Other Half suggested that we could either keep him a bull, or butcher him. I could have gone either way until Son reminded us that we PULLED that little sucker into this world and thus he would NOT end up on the table. Considering that this young man will eat anything with feet, feathers, or fins, I figure if he says the calf won't end up on the table - the calf won't end up on the table!
