Down on the Farm Ch. 02

A week later three of the springers were due to drop their calf. For several days we put them in a pen close to the barn and kept a close eye. The first two delivered their calves when anticipated. The calves were allowed to suckle for three days, then moved to an inside pen. The springers had become cows and were added to the herd. The problem involved the last springer, she didn't drop her calf. For an additional four weeks, she continued to carry. Something was wrong, so we watched and waited. She was not in stress but we had no idea of the problem.

On a Tuesday morning, Edith took Becky and Sam to town. Trish and I were greasing the disc harrow, preparing to work one of the fields. Trish noticed it first. "That springer's in trouble. She can't stand."

At the pen she had dropped to the ground, was lying on her side and in heavy pain. "If we don't do something, we'll loose the calf and her." Trish adds.

"Come, she needs our help." I lead and she follows me to the shed. Handing her the fence stretcher, I lift a coil of soft rope and we return.

Tying one end of the rope to the springer's rear feet, I loop it around one of the posts. Together we pull her around, giving additional room. "What do you plan to do?" Trish asks.

"Pull the calf out. I want you to attach the rope to her front feet, snuggly. We can pull her tight to the post." This was accomplished.

The springer was struggling and in pain. If we couldn't deliver the calf, she would soon die.

Moving behind, I reached inside, feeling around and located the fore hooves of the calf. Tugging, I turn the calf around. I then pulled the hooves till they extended 12 inches. The remainder of the rope was tied to the calf, gently but securely. I fastened the fence puller, fully extended and together Trish and I take in the slack.

"Have you done this before?" Trish asks.

"Nope. Pull gently." I urge. The tension was taught and we waited a couple minutes. The springer groaned, pushed and we gained a couple inches. "Pull again." The process is repeated and more of the calf emerged. "We're gaining. Take it gently."

More calf emerged and the nose was in view. Trish had her hands gripping the pull rope, facing the springer and watching the calf slowly emerge. I reached my arms around her, latched on to the rope and together we kept steady pressure. "Not too fast, not too fast." I cautioned.

Turning her head to look at me, Trish commented, "This calf is huge. No wonder she is having difficulty."

"Go in the barn and grab that burlap sack hanging by the door."

Deftly she jumped up and returned within a moment. "Wipe the calf's face and clear the nose so it can breathe." I instructed.

She wiped the mucus from the head and nose as more of it appeared. The head was out and ever so slowly we were making progress. The springer didn't appear to be in as much distress, but was still groaning as she pushed.

Once the shoulders had emerged, the calf slid out. The springer, now a cow, breathed easier. Amazingly, she had not torn. The calf was well and Trish helped her to her feet, wiping her clean. She wobbled, fell, struggled up and took her first steps. She was the largest born heifer calf I had ever seen, more than 50% heavier and a good 4 inches taller. The cow remained on the ground and feet extended, she was exhausted. I held the calf and Trish finished rubbing her down. Picking up the rope and tackle, we left them alone. I'd check back after the milking was done to make certain the afterbirth had been expelled and hopefully the cow would stand and allow the calf to nurse.

"Thanks for your help. We could have lost both the calf and the cow." I told Trish as I gave her shoulders a squeeze.

"That was good thinking. I've never seen that done before." She replied as she blushed.

"That's the first time for me too, that's for certain. It was obvious she was in trouble and the only thing I could think of was the fence stretcher. And it worked."

The two of us sat on the front porch step and talked. A lull developed in our conversation. I looked at Trish and she had that distant stare, off in her dream world. I touched her arm.

"Where are you?" I ask.

Startled, she turns and looks in my eyes. "Sorry." she said sheepishly.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Oh, nothing." but she blushed a deep crimson.

Edith and the girls drove in. Trish jumped up and ran to the car, excitedly telling her mom what had happened. Edith was listening through the open car window as I strolled up. "I want to see this giant calf." She remarked.

All five of us walked to the pen and leaned over the fence. The calf was walking around and the cow had drawn her feet up under her, still resting. "Wow," said Becky and Sam whistled. "That is one huge calf."

"I'm glad the cow is alright. When do you figure to put her with the herd?" Edith asked.

"In a couple days. I like the size and shape of her udder. She should be a good producer. A very good addition to the herd." I answered.

We talked for a bit longer then Trish and I started milking as the others changed their clothes and returned help with the chores.