Warning: This is a real live calf pulling story. If your ranching experience is limited/nonexistent, you should probably check back in a week or so for more boy stories and less birth fluids. :) I will also warn you that this is not for the faint of heart and the ending is just 50% positive. :/
Should you eat before you read this? Should you not? Can't answer that. When it comes to pulling calves, I could eat a sandwich in one hand while pulling with the other. (The obvious problem with that is that pulling a calf pretty much always involves both hands, but you get the idea.) This is right up my alley!
Sooooooo, last Thursday I was on my way home from my (killer total body conditioning) workout class when, on a small ranch near our house, I noticed a heifer calving. And obviously having trouble. I pulled over immediately (way off of the road and after checking my mirrors, Dad) to get a better look.
The calf was presenting with just one foreleg and its head and was not alive. (Normal presentation for bovine birth is both forelegs and the head.) She'd been in that situation for at least several hours. I had to let the rancher know; partly because I wanted an even closer look and partly because, having given birth myself, seeing her in that kind of a bind made my pelvis hurt.
The ranch situation (where the heifer lives) is very interesting, but that could be a blog post on its own. Here are the cliffs notes (from what I've pieced together): An older couple owns the 200+ acre ranch and runs Dexter cattle. They are not living on the property now, but have a man who lives there and manages it. I'll refer to him as "A". We've seen him often working there and have also seen him around our neighborhood. He's hard to miss, as he wears fatigues at all times, including a vest with various military items attached, and always has his head covered. I've thought him to be in his early forties (and quite intimidating), but judged him to be at least 60 after getting up close and personal this particular day.
The property is dotted with many large vehicles such as motor homes, tractor trailers, buses, and more and they rarely have any type of lights on after dark. I've always been
I called B as I crossed the cattle guard so he'd have something to tell the FBI.
Just as I finished leaving a message, A stepped out in front of my Tahoe. I quickly showed both hands; one out my window. He was giving me the once over for sure.
"Just wanted to let you know that you've got a heifer having problems calving down by the tank. I have some experience and am glad to take a look if you'd like." Please, please, pleeeeeeeeeeaaaase let me help! Please??? (Let me help you understand my enthusiasm. I liken it to meeting your fave celebrity. Yes, that's right. Though if George were on one side of the fence and a calf needed to be pulled on the other, I'm afraid I'd have to wave to him as I hopped the fence to help the cow. What can I say?)
In a quiet voice he replied, "Uh, that'd be great. Follow me." This is soooo cool! I'm watching every little thing, trying to take it all in; A's behavior, the various buildings on the property, etc.)
He jumped in his truck, which was right there, and I followed him down the fence line and around a small pen with about 8 wild hogs in it, then down to the tank. He got out of his truck and the heifer got up and headed straight for the brush because they always do that. I yelled (quietly) to him that he'd need at least one rope. He hopped back in and drove off, then came back with a rope.
Within seconds it was clear that his roping skills were about half that of mine. This would take a while. Forever, possibly. "What about getting her to some pens?" He didn't answer, but I think he's a man of very few words. I'll cut out about 20 minutes of what happened in the brush to tell you that we eventually pushed her with our cars to an old barn and into a makeshift stall that housed a very old, super cool looking car in it. One side of the stall was an aluminum gate, two sides were plywood, & the other side was a disassembled hay ring with lots of baling string involved. Pretty sure he'd put the hay ring side up while I was latching the last get we passed through. The roof was literally falling in. I stepped over part of it on my way in.
He was thinking about how he was going to rope her and I was trying to figure out to what we'd snub her up (tie the rope) if he got the rope on her. "Once you get that rope on her you have to have something to tie it to because we'd both have to sit on that rope to hold her." A stopped and looked around, "There's not much here that's not falling apart." There was one post that would probably work, so he did get the rope on her and tied her to that. Fortunately-very fortunately-she was pretty gentle.
I was hesitant to dive right in since she's not my cow, I didn't know the owners, and I was not about to take my eyes off of A. I was watching his every move and positioning myself appropriately for my safety. Also, I was still in my cute workout clothes. :)
I gave A very specific instructions on what to do, telling him what to pull, how to pull, and to pull with all of his strength. Then I felt much better (for myself, not the heifer). A was not in good physical condition, as he had to shed his military vest and head wear before he started pulling and was out of breath from his little adventure in the woods before he even started pulling. When he did start pulling, the calf didn't move.
A paused and looked toward our vehicles, "Michelle! What are you doing?" I looked that way and saw that Michelle was looking in my car window. And that Michelle is a donkey. Moving on.
"Okay, the other leg is hung on the pelvis, so you'll have to reach in, following the side of the neck to the shoulder." "Reach in?" he asked quietly, not making eye contact. "Yes, and when you feel the leg, you'll have to try to pull it out."
He shook his head and went in, but couldn't get the leg to cooperate. I then told him we'd have to push the calf back in (to try to reposition the problem leg) and that would be so much harder since we'd be working against the cow. Then I remembered A was not in as good shape as I'd previously thought and asked him to let me try to pull before we traumatized the cow even more by trying to push it back in. I put on my gloves and sat down behind her.
I definitely felt some movement and told him to sit right beside me and we'd pull on 3. On the third pull, we got the calf out.
A coughed once and gagged. "Do NOT throw up! I can take this (pointing to the results of our effort) all day, but I do NOT do vomit." He said he was okay (in one or two quiet words) and pulled himself together, telling me thank you and offering to buy me a new pair of leather gloves.
I stood up, dusted off, and took inventory. I would have to wash my clothes because I'd worked out, not because I pulled a calf in them. Not one drop of fluid was on them; not my shoes or my clothes. My gloves weren't even messed up. :)
A stood up, too, and reached into one of the pockets on his military vest, pulling out a pair of latex gloves. "Really? You're getting those gloves out now?" I asked as he put them on in preparation to move the calf.
He looked down at his now gloved hands, "Can I buy you a pair of gloves?"
"No, mine didn't really get messed up, but thanks."
The heifer seemed to be doing well and I encouraged A to call his vet to see what to watch for the next few days.
J & L were on a pile of lumber beside the old car, watching it all. They were perfect and stood still and stayed quiet the whole time. Were they horrified? Maybe, but they took it all in and seemed fine. I explained everything as it was happening, remembering all I learned on the ranch. (Fertility testing of bulls-Yikes!) They'll probably draw pictures and tell stories in their Sunday school classes. For that, I apologize, but it was a fabulous learning experience and I'm glad they were there.
The Spences came over that night and we told them the story. When J & L told her the calf had died and is now in "Hebbin", D said, "Your mommy saved that mommy cow," which I thought was so sweet and a great way for the boys to look at the situation.
"Did you get any pictures?" B asked. "Um, no, because I was too busy watching every move that man made. Plus, I don't know how he'd have felt about my taking out my phone and snapping pics in such a situation." So, lucky for you, there are no pics. :)
1 comment:
You really do have all the fun!!!
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