Calf Delivery 1991

“Ethel’s in labor,” was John’s report as he returned from checking on the cows on a blustery, damp and threatening morning.

We named this, big black cow Ethel because during the Civil Rights movement there was a large and very active black lady so named. We have another beautiful black cow named Coretta.  One red cow has the name of Scarlett, and her daughter is Bonnie Blue, while others have spicy names such as Cinnamon and Ginger.

John kept close check on Ethel as the day progressed and turned to night.  Just before bedtime he went to see about her again and decided to wait for morning before intervening.  In the early morn as he started out, he found a red heifer in labor and stopped long enough to get her to the barn.

By then the weather was colder, the sky very dark and it was uncomfortable to be outside.  Ethel was down and in order to deliver, she must have help.  Of course, she was on the back side of the lower pond, and the truck couldn’t go there, as it might get stuck.

On his return this time, John stopped by the barn and discovered the heifer also had to have help.  He nervously opened the door, and I received the command, “Call Bill.”  What a blessing to have neighbors who will drop whatever they are doing and even miss social gatherings to come help in time of need.

By the time they got the calf puller, ropes and whatever to the barn, the heifer had delivered one front hoof and the head of her calf, but could do no more.  With this calf pulled and the cow up and moving – the men went to Ethel.  On examination, it was determined that not only was the calf breech, but they were unable to find the hooves on which to fasten the puller.  How in the world John can enter that cow and go up above his elbow in an effort to find the calf’s feet, is more than I can understand.

Poor Ethel – this all reminded me of the experiences of James Herriott, the British veterinarian.  His stories were written in a series of books, one of which is called “All Creatures Great and Small.”

Our neighbor, Bill, wearing his red toboggan, arrived with a trailer hitched to his tractor’ they were going to try to load Ethel for a trip to the vet.  However, about this time another younger neighbor came to assist.  I’m told the young man removed his shirt, entered the cow – all the way up to his shoulder – and managed to get the hooves out so they could pull the call.  Whew!  The calf was pulled, although it did not survive.  However, the cow seemed to be okay. The three men washed up, drank coffee, discussed their experience and rested a bit.

Following the departure of the helpers, John went about the business of burying and then another neighbor, who had heard of our trouble, came by to offer his help.  As he started across the pasture to check out the situation, he met John.  This helper had to fetch Bill’s calf puller — Ethel was trying to have another calf.  The third neighbor pulled the third dead calf of the morning — Ethel had had twins!  If it weren’t for bad luck we wouldn’t have any luck at all.

The loss makes us heartsick; however, only those who have them can lose them.  We give thanks that the mama cows are okay, but most of all for friends and neighbors, who are ready to help at a moments notice.  John and I pledge to each other that we will strive to be of more help to those in need.  This is what it’s all about in country living.