We have a cow whose mother was a Holstein and sired by a Brown Swiss, so she’s a deep-chocolate colored bovine with big brown eyes. She is very considerate and knows her stall, every day walking right in without any fuss. As she steps into her spot, she allows me to hook her up with no issues. It’s appreciated. After I tie her up, I pat her neck.
A while back, she had some problems getting bred so my husband had her artificially inseminated with a Brown Swiss bull. That did the trick. She went through her pregnancy without incident and as her due date drew near, she started showing signs of calving. She wasn’t overly big, so what my husband discovered early one morning took him by surprise.
That night before, she had become restless along with other telltale signs that my husband is well aware of. In the days just before calving, the cow’s udder swells and sometimes there can be a noticeable discharge. The length of pregnancy is estimated at approximately 283 days, but if it’s a bull calf or larger calf, it may take a little longer. If it’s a heifer calf and is smaller, the mother cow may give birth earlier than 283 days. This is why farmers keep detailed records of breeding dates.
The weather plays a part, too. Just before a storm an almost-due cow may give birth. There’s something about low pressure that induces labor. So if we have a few cows due around the same time and a storm is in the works, we may get the whole bunch of calves born at once.
To make it a little easier on himself, my husband left our mother-to-be in the cow yard one night, instead of leaving her out with the rest of the herd in the pasture.
The cow yard is fenced in, has a concrete floor and is right outside the barn door. If she did calve, my husband would be able to bring mother and calf in the barn the next morning without a hassle. Getting cows in during pre-dawn mornings can be challenging on a normal day. Some get bullheaded and need to be rounded up using a flashlight; every now and then he’s even made use of our four-wheeler.
Getting out there that morning he spotted the mother cow, and, sure enough, there was her little one. He hauled the calf in, but mother hesitated, not following, which was unusual. Looking back over his shoulder he caught sight of a dark bundle curled up in a corner of the cow yard. Yep, another calf. She had given birth to twins. Taking care of one, he returned to cart the other one in, momma following.
“We’ve got twins!” My husband greeted me that morning when I walked into the barn.
He had already milked the mother and her nutrient-rich colostrums milk was waiting for me to feed the calves. This milk provides immunity to infections and is God’s way of getting them started off in the right direction.
Making my way to the back pen I exclaimed in awe, “They’re red!” One was head-to-tail red; the other one was red and white. You could almost lose these little beauties in a pile of fall leaves, they were that red — and cute! Big, round, brown eyes swallowing up their faces, surrounded by that auburn red, with the tips of their noses painted dark brown. I stopped and stared at them for a while, smiling.
OK, enough admiration. Time to get to work. They were not able to stand, and Brown Swiss are notoriously stubborn so my affection for them was sorely tried that first morning. It took a while to get the milk down the hatch. Persistence and patience paid off as they grew round and feisty in no time. It’s such a pleasure to see calves you’ve nurtured and administered a little TLC to kick up their heels and “calf around.”
The morning after she gave birth, the new mother didn’t come in the barn with the rest. As she was always so predictable and accommodating, my husband figured something was up. He had to go out to get her and, after hooking her up, felt her ears. They were cold, which was one sign she may be on the verge of milk fever. She wasn’t down, so it was not in our best interest to try to administer fluids intravenously. Instead, my husband gave her a calcium pill down her throat with a balling gun. These pills are cow-sized, about 6 inches in length and fit inside a gun-like instrument.
Opening her mouth with one hand, he slides the balling gun along her throat, and then “shoots” the pill down. Once in awhile the cow coughs the pill back up and he has to start all over again.
That one dose did it. She’s eating, she’s coming in these days as usual and she’s produced enough milk for her twin beauties. All good.
(“He has made everything beautiful in its time.” Ecclesiastes 3:11)
Categories
