Sunday, December 12, 2004
a little bull!
This morning our cow Sweetie Pie had her calf, a baby bull we are naming George. We knew that she would be coming in anytime soon, because she was showing the usual signs of swollen milk bags and labored breathing.
This was truly a miracle birth because it took three years in between her calves.
It was on a summer day about three years ago that we decided to sell four of our cows (one-half our herd) to give better grazing for the remaining cows. Our pasture can support about eight cows, but not very well. So we sold Big Brother and Mason, (bulls), and Ma Barker and Ma Kettle (cows) . We kept Little Brother and Memphis (bulls) and Precious and Sweetie Pie (cows). Little Brother was always my favorite bull. When I petted his head and ran my fingers through the curls on his forehead, he would lick my arm. His tongue felt like sandpaper on my skin. About a month after the sale, I left home on a light rainy day. I saw Little Brother standing near a tree and that was the last time I saw him alive.
When I got home that night, my husband met me in our driveway and told me that Little Brother and Precious were in the barn dead. They were stacked in their stalls just like they were sleeping. Since it was a rainy day, we decided that lightning must have hit the barn just right. It was too late to do an autopsy, because an accurate autopsy for a cow must happen within six hours of death. The body deteriorates too fast otherwise. A friend brought his backhoe over and buried them about sixty feet deep under the ground behind the barn. That is no small job, because we estimated that Little Brother probably weighed about 2500 lbs., and Precious was almost as big as he. The chain wrapped around their legs was strong enough to drag them to their grave. We spread a sulfur compound in the barn to cover up the stench and fumigate the area.
Memphis and Sweetie Pie seemed to be okay, but they were coughing and their breathing was very ragged. We got some wire and fenced them off in an area near the front of the pasture so that a closer watch could be kept on them. Our veterinarian came by and checked them out, and all was fine. They were eating and drinking okay, so we felt that they would make it okay. Memphis was only about a month old, and even though Sweetie Pie was not his mother, she took him on and let him nurse from her milk bags.
Over the past few years, Sweetie Pie would not let Memphis sire any offspring. We decided that we must have some cows with morals. One time they both got out and wound up with the cattle at a neighbor's farm, so we were hoping that maybe she was in heat when that happened. But, still there was no pitter-patter of little cow feet in our pasture.
Finally, at the end of this summer, we began to suspect that she might be "with cow". She was getting bigger, but we didn't want to jinx her, so we didn't say much of anything about it. Over the past month, it looked like we might actually have a cow baby in our midst. Last Saturday night, we knew it would be "any day now". Sunday morning I looked outside and then ran to wake my husband up. The heifer was out in our thicket and cleaning up a little critter out there. We ran outside and saw our new little calf. He reminded my husband of a bull he once had during his childhood, so we have named him "George", after the bull in his past.
George is doing nicely so far. He is starting to make his little bull noises. And Sweetie Pie is starting to make her mother sounds. When she is addressing the calf, she has this "Mmmmmm" sound. When he hears that, he knows that she wants him to follow her. It's awesome to watch the love between mother and son. Even Memphis has been involved a little in the parenting process. He came up and was nose-to-nose with Little Georgie just minutes after he was born. Good job, kids!
This was truly a miracle birth because it took three years in between her calves.
It was on a summer day about three years ago that we decided to sell four of our cows (one-half our herd) to give better grazing for the remaining cows. Our pasture can support about eight cows, but not very well. So we sold Big Brother and Mason, (bulls), and Ma Barker and Ma Kettle (cows) . We kept Little Brother and Memphis (bulls) and Precious and Sweetie Pie (cows). Little Brother was always my favorite bull. When I petted his head and ran my fingers through the curls on his forehead, he would lick my arm. His tongue felt like sandpaper on my skin. About a month after the sale, I left home on a light rainy day. I saw Little Brother standing near a tree and that was the last time I saw him alive.
When I got home that night, my husband met me in our driveway and told me that Little Brother and Precious were in the barn dead. They were stacked in their stalls just like they were sleeping. Since it was a rainy day, we decided that lightning must have hit the barn just right. It was too late to do an autopsy, because an accurate autopsy for a cow must happen within six hours of death. The body deteriorates too fast otherwise. A friend brought his backhoe over and buried them about sixty feet deep under the ground behind the barn. That is no small job, because we estimated that Little Brother probably weighed about 2500 lbs., and Precious was almost as big as he. The chain wrapped around their legs was strong enough to drag them to their grave. We spread a sulfur compound in the barn to cover up the stench and fumigate the area.
Memphis and Sweetie Pie seemed to be okay, but they were coughing and their breathing was very ragged. We got some wire and fenced them off in an area near the front of the pasture so that a closer watch could be kept on them. Our veterinarian came by and checked them out, and all was fine. They were eating and drinking okay, so we felt that they would make it okay. Memphis was only about a month old, and even though Sweetie Pie was not his mother, she took him on and let him nurse from her milk bags.
Over the past few years, Sweetie Pie would not let Memphis sire any offspring. We decided that we must have some cows with morals. One time they both got out and wound up with the cattle at a neighbor's farm, so we were hoping that maybe she was in heat when that happened. But, still there was no pitter-patter of little cow feet in our pasture.
Finally, at the end of this summer, we began to suspect that she might be "with cow". She was getting bigger, but we didn't want to jinx her, so we didn't say much of anything about it. Over the past month, it looked like we might actually have a cow baby in our midst. Last Saturday night, we knew it would be "any day now". Sunday morning I looked outside and then ran to wake my husband up. The heifer was out in our thicket and cleaning up a little critter out there. We ran outside and saw our new little calf. He reminded my husband of a bull he once had during his childhood, so we have named him "George", after the bull in his past.
George is doing nicely so far. He is starting to make his little bull noises. And Sweetie Pie is starting to make her mother sounds. When she is addressing the calf, she has this "Mmmmmm" sound. When he hears that, he knows that she wants him to follow her. It's awesome to watch the love between mother and son. Even Memphis has been involved a little in the parenting process. He came up and was nose-to-nose with Little Georgie just minutes after he was born. Good job, kids!
