Phoenix Rising

"Why did you drop him on his head?” came the indignant cry from my grandson.

The timing had been perfectly wrong.

“Stay right where you are, behind that gate. Don’t come any closer,” Ray had directed.

When my daughter and grandchildren arrived for a visit, they heard loud voices and a commotion coming from the barn. Hurrying up the hill toward the noise, they opened the gate and rushed into the alleyway. That’s when they were instructed to go no further.

“Get me a pair of gloves and the chains. And bring the lubricant.”

Shat Acres Raisin Tart was the last cow scheduled to calve in the summer of 2024. We use only natural breeding for our cow/calf farm. Our bull tells us when calves are due to arrive. We watch for the bull to ‘tail’ a cow, following her closely with his nose to her tail. If she is cycling, he will keep close company with her for 36-48 hours. Bulls are sneaky when it comes to completing their work, so we rarely witness the consummation.

However, the tell-tale ‘tailing’ is pretty reliable, so the breeding date is written down in my ledger. Twenty-one days later, give or take a day or two, I watch to see if Rocky is interested in that cow again. If not, we can assume the cow has ‘settled’. Calculating 9 months and 9 days or approximately 283 days from the breeding date, I record when the calf should make its appearance. Knowing when a calf is due is one of the most important pieces of information we keep track of, both for being prepared for the calf’s arrival or for realizing there may need to be intervention if the calf does not arrive close to that due date.

Raisin Tart was due July 5th. A week prior to that she was brought from the main pasture to the ‘maternity ward’ in front of the barn. Having Tart close to the barn allows us to monitor her more closely and to get her into the barn easily for calving. We like our Highlands to calve in clean, dry pens inside the barn. Most of the time Highlands calve easily, needing no assistance. But not always. If the cow is in the barn, we are better prepared if there are any issues with the calving. After the birth we can assess to be sure momma has accepted and is caring for her newbie. New calves should be standing within the first hour after birth and have colostrum within the first twelve hours. If the cow and calf are out in the field, it is harder to be sure a calf has nursed and gotten those precious antibodies in time to be able to absorb them. And with the cow in the barn, if there are issues we can get the cow into the squeeze chute for assistance from us or the vet if needed.

When Tart took up residence in the maternity ward a MooCall was attached to her tail. The MooCall is a monitoring device that sends notifications to my phone and email detecting there is increased activity with the cow's tail movements. That increased tail activity is the precursor for labor and delivery. The MooCall made in Ireland, is not perfect in its accuracy, but is one more tool to help us and our cows be more successful with calving.

On July 3, 2024, Raisin Tart’s life and the life of the calf encased in her womb were both saved by attaching the MooCall to Tart's tail.

At 10:00 AM on July 3rd, my phone pinged with a message from the MooCall. "Increased activity during the last hour."

“Ray, we need to get Tart into the barn. The MooCall just said increased activity for the last hour.”

Tart was brought into the barn, to the awaiting calving pen. An adult cow should produce her calf within 45 minutes of going into labor, a first calf heifer within 90 minutes. Tart, age 7, was an experienced momma with several calves under her belt. We expected Tart to begin showing signs of labor, with her new baby arriving soon after.

Now closed into the barn, Tart showed no signs of labor. At noon my phone pinged again. "Increased activity over the last two hours." Tart was still not showing signs of labor. What she was showing was a desire to get out of the pen and be let back outdoors.

And we almost did just that. After all she wasn’t due for two more days. And the MooCall sometimes sends false positives.

Ray can run the machinery, make hay, halter train the cattle and do so many things I cannot do. But when it comes to maternity signs and inclinations, I have the upper hand. Something told me to keep Tart in the barn, at least until the following morning. For one thing, checking on her in the barn during the night would be easier than out in the paddock.

Later that afternoon, the MooCall pinged again.

“Ray, something is not right with Tart. I think you should put her in the chute and check her out. We need to see what is going on.”

Easy for me to say. I’m not the one who has to maneuver a 1500 lb cow with giant horns into the chute and through the head-gate. And I’m not the one who has to stick my arm up to my shoulder into Tart’s privates to do the internal exam. With those tasks completed, Ray realized we had a crisis. The calf had moved into the birth canal, but Tart had not dilated and had not gone into labor to push the calf out. With the amount of time that had already passed, there was precious little time to help Tart birth her calf. We knew that even if we could get the calf out, with the delayed birth it might not survive.

“We’ve got to get the calf out! And we’ve got to get it out now! Get the calving kit!”

I rushed to the house to get the calving kit, running back to the barn as fast as I could. Ray had already donned the shoulder length yellow glove and was about to dive back inside Tart. Things were happening at a rapid pace and there was loud and probably less than genteel conversation between us. Ray directed me to apply lubricant and stretch the opening of the vulva enabling room for the calf to pass through. Ray was desperately reaching for the calf's feet, looping and applying chains before the calf pulled its feet farther back inside. Delivering a calf is always stressful.

It was in the midst of frantically trying to get the calf out quickly that our company arrived.

With the somewhat traumatized observers watching from the other side of the gate, the long struggle ended with a whoosh and a gush of amniotic fluid. Tart’s calf was finally freed from the womb where it had been held hostage for just over nine months.

And it landed on its head.

The correct position for a calf to exit the cervix is with the two front feet framing the face, as if diving into a pool. This calf, though stuck for hours inside a cow that had not had the normal progression of labor, was in the correct position. When a cow needs assistance delivering her baby while standing in a squeeze chute, after the front feet and head clear the opening, hips and hind legs follow in quick succession. Descending in rapid fashion, the calf lands head first.

Which can be upsetting for observers to see.

Tart’s calf had been trapped in the birth canal, struggling to be born for several hours. When the calf entered the world, he was coated with tar like, viscous, mustard-colored meconium, which is the earliest stool from a mammal. This should occur after the calf is outside the womb. Because the calf had been squeezed so long in the birth canal it occurred inside the cow instead of outside. Being coated with meconium can portend a less than successful outcome for the calf. If the calf ingests or breathes in the meconium it can be fatal.

The calf was moved from behind the squeeze chute to the pen. Lying flat on his side in the clean straw, we rubbed him vigorously with towels. We cleaned his mouth and nostrils of the meconium. And then we saw it. His little rib cage was moving up and down as he sucked in his first breaths. Calves are incredibly resilient, and though exhausted from his ordeal, he was alive. A few minutes later he shook his head and ears as if to say, "Here I am!" Momma Tart and calf were united. Within 45 minutes the little fellow who waited so long for his entrance to the world, was standing on wobbly legs. And soon was drinking colostrum!

Because the new calf was red, my daughter named him Phoenix.

From the beginning Phoenix has seemed very tame and people oriented. Tart and Phoenix stayed in the barn a bit longer than some of our new calves, just to be sure all was well. While in the barn, he loved being combed and giving kisses to visitors. When he was strong enough and we knew he and momma were off to a great start, Phoenix and Tart exited the barn and joined the rest of the fold.

Last week, Phoenix returned to the barn for weaning. He and Tart were separated for the first time since July 3rd, the day he was born. Momma and calf talked to each other through the gate for several days, not happy with the separation. And then they were okay with being apart. Tart is growing a new baby to arrive in 2025. And Phoenix got to be combed and give kisses again.

Phoenix is so tame and gentle and has been super easy to work with and socialize. After six months he had not forgotten how much he likes having his neck scratched and resting his head on your shoulder. I have wondered if he knows and appreciates that he was saved by those who love and care for his momma, and who worked so hard to help him to arrive alive.

Phoenix Rising.