The Hard Stuff

Everyone loves a happy ending.

We go to romantic comedies, knowing that the boy and girl eventually will find true love after a series of comical mishaps. We root for the hero during action movies. We hold our breath as we turn pages of an engrossing book, anticipating an ending that ties up all the loose ends.

But sometimes, no matter our best efforts, the ending isn't one you'd choose. People die too young. A potential job falls through. An accident happens and changes life forever.

And, sometimes, a baby calf dies.

Such was the case with the seventh calf of our Class of 2017.  Heifer No. 581 gave birth in a mud puddle. The mama didn't take advantage of a generous amount of straw spread out in the corrals.

The calf couldn't have been there all that long, probably less than an hour. But, by the time, Randy was back out in the lots, he found a shivering black calf. He and Ricky hauled it into the calving shed and tried to warm it up. Then, they left it alone with the mama for awhile, hoping she'd get it up and nursing.

But, after checking it again, Randy decided to milk out the mama. Baby calves can't nurse if they don't stand up, and this little calf wasn't strong enough.

Just like with humans, a mama's first milk is full of important colostrum for its offspring. We got the heifer in the head gate and Randy milked her.

We use an esophageal feeder to feed the calf.

It uses a tube and gravity to get the milk into the calf's stomach.

Some gentle rubs from a farmer were part of the after-feeding ritual.

But, a few hours later, the calf died. No one ever likes losing calves. We do our very best to be good stewards of the animals in our care. But, despite our best efforts, Old Man Winter can be a hard opponent to battle. Death is a fact of life. It's hard on the emotions and the pocketbook. (New calves would sell for about $200 in the sale barn this year.) And it's not a fun thing to share on a blog about a farm. But it is truth.

We celebrate when Cinderella's foot slips effortlessly into the glass slipper and she gets her prince. We cheer loudly when the underdog triumphs over the bigger, stronger opponent. And we mourn when things don't have a fairytale ending.

Our first calf of the season is doing great.

But the journey continues. We have a total of 113 heifers and cows to calve out. Here's hoping for more happy endings.

The Newest Residents of the County Line

Meet the newest residents of the County Line. This little gal got the distinction of getting the first "earring," noting her arrival. The calves born this year will get eartags beginning in "7," designating they were born in 2017. That's particularly important for the heifers which will eventually join our herd. As they come through the working chute in subsequent years, we'll be able to tell at a glance how old they are.

 

Randy saw this calf before we went to church. But by the time we got back home and had lunch, it was no longer a sleepy, wobbly newborn. It took both of us to corral her so we could give her the first eartag.

By that time, Calf No. 2 had arrived, too. That calf was considerably easier to catch. The mama eventually nudged it up.

But it didn't take long until it decided to take another snooze.

No. 3 (No. 702) arrived Monday night, so the 2017 maternity ward is officially off and running. (We now are up to 5 calves after another was born overnight.) All the calves being born now are coming from our heifers. These are 25 first-time moms. They were born on the County Line two years ago in 2015. So far, they are handling this parenthood thing rather well. They have all accepted their calves and are providing personal "milk machines" for their babies.

The projected due date was January 28. But, just like with human babies, they come when they are ready. We keep the heifers in a lot closer to the house so we can check on them more often.

The corrals are still sloppy after last week's ice storm. (I about lost a boot, and Randy had to come and rescue me when I tried to get photos Monday afternoon. I finally just used the zoom to get most of the photos.) There is plenty of straw spread out, but so far, the calves haven't taken advantage of the drier accommodations. 

 

Our first calf did find a windbreak in some tree branches. 

The calving shed is also ready for "customers." Sometimes, first-time moms have trouble with the birth and need some assistance. We can usher a heifer having problems into the calving shed and use a head gate to help keep her and us safe while we pull the calf. With temperatures falling overnight, we will likely run a few heifers who look close to calving into the shed the next few nights. 

In 2012, I wrote "The Miracle of Birth," which showed photos of the guys pulling a baby calf. Click here to read that post and see the photos. With the heifers, Randy uses a bull for "calving ease" - a bull whose progeny is lower birth weight but which gains well after birth. It would be great if we didn't have to pull any calves this winter. So far, so good, but time will tell.

Bulls and Babies - Present and Future

We had our own rodeo on the County Line last Friday. Thankfully, the bulls skipped the bucking portion of the rodeo event and proceeded calmly to their doctor's appointment with Dr. Dayul Dick from Prairie Vista Veterinary Hospital. So maybe I should call it a round-up instead. Semantics, you know! And I'll gladly give credit where credit is due.

Dr. Dick came to the farm to test our five bulls through a breeding soundness examination. (For a complete - though PG - description of the process, click here on last year's "job interview" post.)

All five bulls passed the exam and were ready for action, so to speak. 

 

The four Angus bulls "went a callin' " to the heifers, beginning yesterday.

The ladies had to have their doctor's appointments, too. From March 18-31, our 25 yearling heifers had their silage topped with MGA. MGA stands for melengestrol acetate, which suppresses the ovulation cycle for the heifers. That was the first step in getting  the heifers to come into estrus (or heat) at the same time. These heifers were born in early 2015. In 2017, they will become mothers for the first time.

Yesterday, we rounded up the heifers for their turn through the working chute.

Randy gave each heifer a shot of Lutalyse, which makes them come into estrus (or heat).

 

The Lutalyse also synchronizes the heifers' cycles. We do this to shorten the calving season for the heifers, which saves labor at calving time. (Well, it saves some labor for the humans - not the mama cows.) Because heifers are first-time mamas, we check them frequently in case they are having trouble calving.

"What? It's my turn?" this heifer seemed to say. She reminded me of a toddler who covers her eyes and thinks no one can see her. Despite her diversion tactics, she had her turn in the chute, too.

Once the heifers got their shots, it was time for the bulls to join them. It will likely be a couple of days for "romance" to blossom, in other words, for the Lutalyse to work.

And then, some 9 months later, we'll hope to have lots of healthy babies running around. We are down to just a few to calve for the 2016 County Line "class."

Also last Friday, we had another rodeo event - calf wrestling - without the horse or the rope.

 

 Three babies had been born at this location since we had worked baby calves earlier.

The guys followed the same routine, but it was a little more challenging without the squeeze chute. Randy wanted this particular "rodeo" event scheduled before the rain. I guess he didn't want to reenact a greased pig race. These guys were already fast enough!

The mamas were none too happy to be separated from their babies. They didn't mind protesting - loudly!

I was guarding a gate to keep the babies from making a hasty exit underneath. A mama seemed to question my intentions.

A critic in every bunch, right? Political rallies aren't the only events with protesters.