Finally. Our very first calving season is officially over. The majority of our calves were born in May but we had two late-calvers: one on June 13th and the last calf born on July 9th. For the last few weeks I have been trying to get an updated photo of each calf but they are quick, sneaky and camera shy little buggers.
Without further ado, we introduce the Wood Farm 2014 calf lineup, in order of birth:
Today, we continue with the story of that very special calf, B1.
Hours turned into days as we fought against the elements and the clock to save our very first calf.
Here is B1’s story….
UL 220 with her calf, seconds after he was pulled.
After calf B1 made his entrance (with the help of chains) that snowy, cold and wet night, we really did not know what to expect and what exactly to do…. All of us were slightly in shock and to be perfectly honest, scared for this calf’s life. He was barely alive.
We were so fortunate to have our good friend and mentor, Gene, there with us. He guided us, kept us calm and focused us on the task at hand. In a kind and supportive voice, he told us we should have pulled the calf earlier. We learned a hard lesson that night. It was a beginners’ mistake. We should have pulled the calf 30 or more minutes earlier. I guess you don’t know until you actually go through it, right?
Too weak to stand.
Due to being stuck in the birth canal for too long, the calf’s head and tongue were extremely swollen. His swollen, protruding tongue was the first thing we saw after he came out. I figured we would be burying a calf that night. Gene gently pumped …to help clear fluid from the lungs and stimulate breathing. The calf was breathing but barely. Gene told us to rub along the calf’s spine to help stimulate breathing as well. We rubbed and we rubbed. The breathing got a little stronger and we knew that this calf needed to stand and nurse as soon as possible. After a couple of halfhearted attempts, it was obvious that this calf was simply too weak, and too ‘injured’ to stand and nurse.
Swollen, protruding tongue and extremely weak.
The temperature was quickly dropping and the pasture was a maze of little muddy rivers from the snow and rain that day. If we left this calf, in the hopes of him standing and nursing, overnight, we had no doubt we would be finding a frozen, dead calf the next morning. We had no intention of that happening. We were going to give all that we had to save this calf. We needed to get colostrum in this calf ASAP!
Colostrum is absolutely critical for the health of a newborn calf. Colostrum is often referred to as “liquid gold” and for good reason. This milky substance is full of vitamins, minerals, fats, carbohydrates and proteins, providing the very best nutrition needed to help build the immune system in those first critical days and to give the calf the best start possible for a strong and healthy body. Click here to read more about the importance of colostrum in the hours after birth.
We made the decision to load the calf in our sled, hook the sled to our four-wheeler and bring this little guy into the house for the night. We could hear the mother cow’s cries all the way back at the house. This was going to be a rough night for all.
Our immediate plan was to mix powdered colostrum and bottle feed it to the calf. Sounds simple and easy, right? Well, because of the calf’s extremely swollen tongue, he could not nurse the nipple on the bottle. For almost four hours, we worked as a team, one holding the calf’s head up (he was too weak to even hold his head up) and the other gently working the nipple into his mouth, squeezing in the colostrum and encouraging him to swallow the liquid. We had to be careful, though, not to force too much liquid on him; because the calf was barely swallowing, we did not want the colostrum to get into his lungs and for him to develop pneumonia.
All the while, we kept the calf wrapped in dry, warm towels in front of our wood stove. The calf did make a few more halfhearted attempts to stand but even with our assistance, he could not support his own weight. He simply collapsed to the ground every time we helped him up. By midnight, we had fed him around one quart of colostrum and he was dry and toasty. We left him in front of the wood stove, said some prayers, and went to bed.
In the morning, I could hear him in the family room, trying to stand. His weakness combined with our slippery, laminate floors were not a recipe for standing up. But, we knew he was alive and kicking! He had made it through the night. We had made it through one small battle but the war was far from over.
That morning, we immediately went to work, mixing up another bottle of colostrum. But, the calf still could not nurse the bottle. If we ever wanted this calf to stand on his own and walk around, we needed him to build up his strength. The clock was ticking and every minute was precious. Bottle feeding simply was not going to work. We were going to have to tube-feed this calf.
Throughout the course of that day, in total, we tube-fed the calf almost four quarts of colostrum. In addition, we also spent a lot of time encouraging the calf to stand and helping to support him while standing.
B1 resting with his mom. Still not standing at this point.
Despite our efforts, this calf appeared to have given up. He had no desire to live it seemed. Luckily, the weather conditions started to improve and we decided to take the calf to visit his mom. She immediately welcomed him back and went to work on grooming him and encouraging him to stand. He did not stand during this visit but we observed much more spunk and a definite will to live.
Temperatures were predicted to dip down below freezing that night so we had no choice but to bring the calf back in for the night. It was simply heartbreaking to take the calf away from his mom…again… She bellowed and ran after us as we raced to get the calf out of the pasture and to the house without her attacking us. We were actually very pleased by her protective nature and natural mothering instincts. She was already a very good mom.
Again that night, we prayed that we would wake up to a live calf. We set our alarm clock for a middle of the night tube feeding. During that middle of the night feeding the calf peed for the first time and pooped two times. Very encouraging. We found another poop and pee when we woke in the morning. The calf was trying with everything he had to stand. He had some will to live now. We took him back to see his mom. Both calf and mom seemed very relieved to be back together and imagine our surprise when that calf stood on his own and took a few wobbly steps!
They stayed together for the rest of the afternoon. To our knowledge, the calf did not stand and walk again. He certainly was not nursing. The time had come for his afternoon feeding. This time was going to be different, though. We had talked with Gene and he strongly advised that we find a way to keep the calf outdoors overnight. He worried about respiratory issues arising from the back and forth, from inside to outside. This calf needed to adjust to outdoor conditions, both day and night.
Heavy rain was predicted for that night and we knew that we needed to provide some sort of shelter for the calf. So, using scrap materials on the farm, we set-up an area for the calf inside one of our storage units. We loaded the calf back in the sled and brought both mom and calf to the pasture with the storage unit. At this point, things got a bit dicey. We needed to give the calf his afternoon tube feeding. In order to do that, we needed to bring him into the storage unit and put up a makeshift gate to prevent the mom from attacking us while we fed the calf.
In the course of trying to get the calf from the sled to the storage unit (the calf kept standing up and walking away from the unit), the mother cow decided that enough was enough and rammed Jer to the ground. Understandably, this mother cow was at the end of her rope, fraught with fear for her and her calf’s lives. What she did was a natural instinct for her and my response back was a natural instinct as well. There will be times in your life where fear and adrenaline will drive you to act, to act before your brain even processes the potential danger you are putting yourself in. You don’t think, you just go. After Jer hit the ground, I did what I had to do to protect and shield him from the mother cow while he regained his footing. Fear drove both me and that mother cow for those intense minutes. She was protecting her own and I had to protect my own. Jer and I work as a team on this farm. This is our shared dream, and I wasn’t going to let it end that afternoon.
We need to be reminded that these animals are very large and very strong and when you add in elements like fear, their strength will seem endless. This behavior is something that you need to respect. You have to be alert and on yours toes every second while working around these animals.
Moving on, we eventually did get the calf into the storage unit and tube fed him two quarts of colostrum. Not knowing if we would get this opportunity again with him, we went ahead and worked the calf. Using the supplies in our calving bucket, we gave him a shot of Multi-min, tagged his left ear, banded him, and squirted iodine into his navel to help prevent infection. We also did a hoof measurement to try to get a weight. We reunited the calf and the mother cow, and we walked away from the pasture that afternoon a little more seasoned and a bit smarter than when we entered it.
This would be night three for this calf. We were extremely anxious going to bed that night, fearful that the calf would stumble out of the storage unit and drown in the rain and mud. Jer checked the mother and calf in the middle of the night and all was well.
In the morning, I immediately jumped out of bed, jammed my feet into my muck boots, grabbed my hat and jacket and booked it to the storage unit pasture. As I approached the pasture, I could see a brown form huddled near a hay bale. I ran faster and could see that it was the calf. He had made his way out of the storage unit and walked a good distance to the shelter of the hay bales. As I ducked under the fence and approached him, he moved. I was almost dizzy with relief. I could have cried. As I knelt down beside him, he immediately jumped up and walked straight to his mom. What he did next was simply a miracle – he nursed him mom. I stood in shock and in awe of the sight before me. Again, I could have cried. I called Jer on the phone and told him that I didn’t think we would have to worry about a bottle calf, we had a nurser on our hands!!
B1 nursing his mom for one of the first times!B1 nursing his mom for one of the first times!
Calf, B1, continued to nurse his mom that day and he never looked back. 🙂
B1 nursing his mom at almost two weeks old.
As I am writing this post, B1 is frolicking in the pasture with our other seven calves, strong, healthy, and with a definite will to live.
And that, folks, was our introduction into the world of calving!
Thank you for sharing in our story and please enjoy some more pictures of B1, below:
April showers snow storms bring May flowers April/May calves!
The last month we have been on pins and needles, excited and nervous for the start of our first ever calving season. We were so relieved when the snow finally melted away and we started to have several dry, sunny days in a row. We figured it was the perfect time for a calf to be born, right? It seemed that all of our careful planning with our breeding season was panning out.
Apparently, though, Mother Nature still had a few surprises up her sleeve.
We woke up the morning of Thursday, April 24th and were immediately thrown back into winter. It was such a shock to see the wintery scene unfolding out the window. Snow, sleet, rain, cold temperatures…you name it, we had it that day.
Perfect day for a calf to be born, right?! And, especially for greenhorns like us trying to calve with limited indoor facilities.
First-calf heifer UL220 did not care not that the weather and ground conditions were horrible for calving. She was having her calf, warm or cold, snow or sun…weather be darned. This calf was coming.
So, we pulled our winter gear back out (bye-bye sandals:)) and dove headfirst into what would become (for us) an absolute nightmare situation. Looking back on it, we realize that it could have been much, much worse. But, for us, it was pretty rough. All of those “what ifs” and “oh, that won’t happen to us”, came thundering down on us as we fought a very mental, emotional and physical battle to save this heifer and her calf’s lives.
Let me start at the beginning…….
Thursday, April 24, 2014
In the recent weeks, we had started checking the herd every couple of hours for signs of labor. At around 1:15pm in the afternoon, I (Sara) was checking the herd when I noticed that one of the heifers had isolated herself from the herd. We have some heifers that are a little anti-social normally but this was definitely not one of those heifers. This was actually our friendliest and most social heifer. She is also our youngest (will be 2 in June). She is the only one that we can actually rub/touch. I walked over to her and immediately got the “stay away from me” vibe from her. Very unusual behavior for her. Later on, Jeremiah told me that she would not let him pet her that morning.
Bent tail, bad mood and anti-social. I think we are having a calf!
I also noticed that her tail was bent to the side. She was not chewing cud or eating. She was simply standing in some bushes, away from the herd, with her tail bent to the side and in what I would call a very bad mood.
I called Jeremiah at work and filled him in on what I was seeing. He told me to keep an eye on her and to keep him updated. I came back to the house and within 30 minutes, I put my muck boots back on and practically sprinted back to the pasture. I just knew that calf was coming. Too many signs and the bent tail was a dead giveaway (I can say that confidently now that we have seven calves on the ground).
As I approached the pasture, I could see the heifer was in the same location but laying down on her side. I knew it was game on at that point. My heart was racing and I was almost delirious with what to do. I remember running around the hay bale area, trying to collect dry hay to put around her. I was so excited and very naive for I thought I was going to witness an easy, natural birth.
The heifer was definitely having contractions. Her whole whole body lifted off the ground with the effort. She alternated between laying down and standing up, with her tail lifted straight up in the air. During one of her sessions laying down, she pooped and peed. There is only going to be probably two times in a cows life when she pees laying down. One, she is extremely ill and/or dying and two, she is having a calf! At that point, Jer decided to come home and we switched places for a bit. I came back to the house to take care of things and Jer took up the watch.
Passing the water bag.
I got a phone call at 2:45pm that she had passed her water bag. There was definitely no turning back now. I rushed back to the pasture and joined Jer.
Two hooves!
Shortly after she passed the water bag, we could see two hooves poking out.
The contractions were literally rocking her body. For about 2 1/2 hours, we watched her (from a safe distance) as she continued to alternate between laying down and standing up with hard contractions. From our research and advice from other people, first-calf heifers can labor for 1-3 hours.
This was our first experience and there is a very fine balance between letting nature take its course and us (humans) intercepting. We did not want to assist too soon and risk causing health risks to both the calf and the mother. Also, we really did not want to be the reason for any bonding issues for the calf and mother.
UL220, seconds before we pulled the calf. She was absolutely spent. She could not progress past the front legs.
As more time passed, it became evident that UL220 was slowly starting to give up. She simply could not push the head out and she had no more to give. She was done. We had to step in at this point. We risked losing both the mother and the calf if we didn’t intervene. UL 220 is our youngest heifer and small for her age. She isn’t even two years old yet! (in June).
We had been in phone contact on and off during the labor with our good friend and mentor, Gene. Since this was our first calving experience and it was looking like we were going to have to pull this calf, Gene wanted to come up and provide physical and mental support!
Jer and Gene gearing up to pull the calf.Pulling…..and the calf is out!
Within 5 minutes of Gene arriving, him and Jer pulled the calf.
They said that they barely had to tug on the chains and…..
the calf slipped right out!
I watched the entire process and documented it with the above pictures. It was completely surreal. We were all so excited and relieved that the calf was out.
The tough times, though, were only starting.
The prognosis was not looking good for our first ever calf……
