Know to Say When
“We’ll give her ten more minutes.”
With a due date of March 31st, Zora had been in the maternity paddock for a few days. The barn was full, with Verbena and baby girl Black Velvet, Danica due to calve tomorrow, and Onyx past due on March 27th.
“Zora has milk in her udder. We’ll need to get her in the barn tonight.”
Apparently, night would not have been soon enough, because shortly after that proclamation Ray said briskly, “I’m headed to the barn. I need to check something.”
Ray had been eating lunch before he bolted. Looking out the window in the door, he noticed Zora was now discharging. I ran up after him. We quickly decided to put Onyx back outside as she did not look as close to calving as Zora. Zora was brought into the barn, her pen fluffed with clean straw.
With Zora safely in the barn, Ray left with the four-wheeler to finish hanging up Safety Zone posters along the road adjacent to the pasture, while from the house I monitored animals in the barn with the help of our Reolink cameras. We thought there was still plenty of time, as cows can discharge sometimes a few days prior to calving.
“She’s calving!” I hollered to Ray over the cell phone, not too long after he had left, “Where are you?”
“I’ll come right back. Bring the calving toolbox.”
We met in the field outside the maternity paddock, close enough to see into Zora’s pen but far enough away to give her space and privacy.
Soon the water sac appeared. After a short time, the sac broke. All good so far. Feet should quickly follow. An adult cow should complete birthing her calf within 40 minutes or less after labor begins. For a first calf heifer the process can take up to an hour to an hour and a half. This was Zora’s second calf.
Feet finally appeared. Two little hoofs were pointed downward like diving into a pool. Another good sign. The nose should follow soon, right between the front feet. Instead, the feet disappeared back into Zora. This is not unusual, but feet should poke back out quickly, each time protruding more. The feet did not protrude any further. No nose made an appearance.
At this point, Zora’s delivery was no longer proceeding as a normal presentation. Ten minutes had passed since we set the ultimatum. Everything started happening very quickly as we knew we had no time to lose. As we hastily planned our next steps, in some ways it felt like we were standing still and could not move fast enough.
Danica had to be moved to the front of her pen so we could get Zora into the squeeze chute . Zora, in labor had to be brought from her pen to the alleyway, and turned so she could head into the squeeze chute.
“Get the chains and the hook. Get my glove and squeeze lubricant onto my palm. Get one loop ready in the chain.”
As Ray thrust one arm, sleeved up to his shoulder in a yellow glove, into Zora, I ran to put on my glove. The loop was wrapped around the first of the calf’s foot.
“Make sure you get the loop high enough on the calf’s leg, above the dewclaws,” I reminded someone who did not need reminding.
“Get the loop ready in the other end of the chain. I’m going to try to get the other foot out. Can you wrap the loop onto the other foot?”
Not really sure I could, what choice did I have? Sliding my gloved hand, slathered with lubricant to enlarge the opening of the exit, I felt the other foot. I grabbed it and slid the chain loop over it, being careful to get it above the dewclaws. Ray was pulling on the hook linked over the chain as hard as he could, but making no progress. Where was that nose? I grabbed the metal bar that used to go on my past Subaru’s roof rack, that Ray slides through the chain for more leverage. Bracing the bar off a 6x6 stud in the barn Ray squatted low so as to pull downward, trying to get that head to make its appearance. Once the head exits, the rest of the calf will rapidly slide out onto the floor in a heap.
But the head wasn’t coming. Ray pulled. I felt the crown of the head as I slid more lubricant. It was a big head. And then there was a nose! And soon, a little pink tongue stuck out to tease us on.
C’mon head! You’ve got to come out!
Ray pulled. I slid my hand over the crown of the head trying to enlarge the opening. The nose sticking out, grew a little longer. Time was of the essence. Was the calf still alive?
With my face so close to that extruding nose, when it inched out a tiny bit more a dark eye looked right into mine. That long-lashed eyelid opened and closed--as if the calf was winking at me and begging us not to give up. I had my answer.
“Pull harder!" I yelled to Ray. "I think we got it. Here it comes!”
And he did, and it did!
Rushing to get the nose and mouth cleared of any mucous or fluid, rubbing the calf vigorously with towels to start it taking in oxygen, rolling it upright to open the lungs, trimming the navel and dunking it in iodine, giving a BoSe injection of Vitamin E and Selenium, the calf was quickly dragged back into Zora’s pen.
Zora was released from the squeeze chute, eager to meet her newborn. A newborn that almost wasn’t.
Zora is a terrific momma and knew just what to do, picking up where we left off better than we could have. Her little boy is one of the most vigorous calves we have ever had. Shaking his head at less than five minutes old, standing in less that half on hour, nursing in less than forty five minutes.
A Blue Roan Bull! A color never before born on our farm in 59 years. We are so grateful to Zora for giving us this gift. Well, not exactly giving, but allowing us to go find, pull, and unwrap such a special present!
A calf that never would have been, if Ray did not know When to Say When.
Saved that one.