On the second day of January, as I was in the camper making breakfast, my husband came bounding in exclaiming, “there’s a baby cow out there!”
For months, I had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of Charlotte’s calf. I’d been watching her womb expand, and her milk bag grow with the excitement of a child waiting for Christmas. We weren’t exactly sure when the calf would arrive, but as the holidays came and went, I could tell she was getting close. And now, finally, the moment was here! I was jumping up and down laughing and hugging my husband in a frenzy of joy and excitement, causing my one-year-old son to speed around the camper clapping and giggling. We got dressed and ran outside. There she was! A perfect little black baby girl, standing next to her momma in the snow.
Both cows looked healthy and relatively content. Charlotte had already cleaned the calf up and someone, either her or one of the dogs, had ensured that the placenta was nowhere to be seen.
Despite being confident that Charlotte was more than capable of giving birth, having a drama-free calving was actually a major relief. I had been regaled by so many people’s stories of stuck calves, still born births, and horror stories of all kinds. This admittedly made it difficult to be completely at ease.
I breathed a sigh of relief. All was well with the world. Well, almost. There was far too much hubub surrounding this newborn calf. Four energetic dogs and a curious cat were noisily swarming the area with zero respect to the personal space of mom and baby. And then, the horse got involved. Seemingly feeling threatened by this unknown creature in his paddock, he lunged toward her as if to chase her away. Charlotte scattered, and the poor baby was left to fend for herself. She was new to walking, let alone running, and the ground was covered in snow and ice. She slipped and fell, and my horse stepped on her right back leg! It all happened so fast that there was nothing I could do but watch in horror. I knew in that moment that this was not a proper environment for them. The stress they were under was palpable.
Being the resourceful person that he is, my husband set up a wooden plank across the entrace to the paddock’s shelter, high enough to let the cows in but keep the horse, Kenobi, out. He covered the baby in his jacket to keep her warm and stood guard, protecting her from Kenobi while I grabbed the pickaxe and began prying frozen manure of the ground in the shelter. We bedded it down with lots of straw and shavings, put in water, hay & the salt block, and allowed mama and baby to settle in. They were both exhausted and were soon laying down cuddling and resting.
I was pretty excited to take a look and perform my postpartum cow midwifery duties. We did not want to interfere unnecessarily, but after a few hours of observation, we began to get nervous that the calf hadn’t been seen nursing. Still biding our time and hesitant to step in, Brandon ran to the local feed store to get a bottle before they closed, just in case.
Eventually, the pair had enough rest, and Charlotte got up and began to eat and drink. Yes! Another sigh of relief. The baby got up too and was sniffing around, trying to find the teats. All we had to do was help her out a little bit by guiding her to the correct area and squeezing out a bit of milk onto her nose. Soon, she was happily suckling, and I was able to clean and bandage the cut Kenobi had made on her leg.
Now, the little calf, who we have named Ventress (IYKYK) is almost two months old. She brings so much joy to our lives every day! She is sweet and silly and full of boundless energy. Since she can easily hop through the paddock fencing, she runs around wherever she wants, exploring the homestead. She plays in the pack with the dogs and seems to think she is one of them. Right now, she appears to have the robust build of an Angus. But that could change, and I am having a wonderful time watching her grow up.
And best of all, it is so great to finally have fresh raw milk again! The quality far exceeds anything we have previously had. So far, I have learned to make butter, cheese, and sour cream with no plans to stop there. The adventure of the family dairy cow continues to be one of my favorite homestead experiences as it provides a nutritious bounty and plenty of lessons!
