On Wednesday, my husband came home from work and we walked across the street to greet our neighbors who were up to visit their second home for the long weekend. Standing there chatting about their children and grandchildren, we started hearing one of our cows mooing. She had just been allowed into a new area of the field with 10 inch long grass and I had filled their water tank, so I knew her basic needs weren't the issue.
I looked at Bob and said - I wonder if she's had her calf and
something is wrong. Two of our cows were pregnant, and then there's Charlie, our little
beefer. So we walked down the long driveway back to the gate and looked up the hill to see a new little calf peeping at us from the vegetable garden. The poor mama was on the other side of the interior electric fence, crying loudly.
Since I knew my sandals wouldn't work inside the paddock, I ran inside for a change of shoes while Bob shut off the fence in the barn. When we both came back, the calf was gone. The mother cow was frantic, and now so were we. Did the calf run through the exterior fence when we shut it off? We were only gone a minute or two.
We called out the mounties. Karen came. Pia and Melissa and two exchange students came. Bill came. Diane came. Grace's friends Ton and Bret came. We drove around, walked around, searching the woods near the field and walked all over the inside of each of the separated meadows within the exterior fence.
Looking north at the south gate of our cow's pasture, we have a gentle hill that slopes to the right and is dotted with tall trees, with lush grass underneath. We call that Heifer Hill. To the left, on the west side of the field, we have a steeper, rocky hill, on the other side of a hedgerow of old maples and elms. This is Hog Hill. Down the center of the field, straight on towards the north gate, is lots of thick grass this time of year. This circle, ringed by the two ridges is divided into 5 separate pastures, with a vegetable garden in the center. We rotate the cows into the pastures almost daily.
When we put up the interior fences this spring I worried a little that a
calf would be able to get under the one string, but a single string is all you need to keep the larger cows in the individual areas. Well sure enough, the baby calf scooted under the fence to the garden and was separated from her mother.
Eventually Grace's friend Ton found the calf in the tall grass on Hog hill - almost stepping on him. But with so many people in the field, the calf spooked and ran through the outer fence, now turned off to allow us to pass. Now, the calf was really outside the fence. Luckily we had so many people to help and we created a ring around the calf and as we walked towards him, tightening the ring, he turned and ran back through the 5 string high tensile exterior fence.
We turned it back on immediately and mother and calf were reunited. We ordered pizza and sat in the kitchen with the doors and windows open to the warm evening, laughing with neighbors, friends, teenagers, and we were all relieved. Our community saved the day and we were grateful.
On Thursday, the next day, the kids arrived home from school with friends to show off the new calf, and they came back in the house saying that the calf was nowhere to be found. I went out and since the cow wasn't upset, I
wasn't either. The new
bull calf is a wanderer. I went back out later and still no calf and the cows udder was practically dragging on the ground, it was so full. This cow had always been a great mother and kept her babies close to her.
Later - at 11:30, I took a flashlight and found no calf in the field. But the mother didn't look worried. I was worried, but I knew there wasn't much I could do. We already pulled the cord on the friends searching for this wily calf. So I went to bed and asked my guardian angels to look after the calf.
Friday morning, I went out to the field early, not expecting the calf to be back. I expected a sad mother cow, udder full. But there the calf was - running in the field, kicking up his heels. I thought - he must be nursing or he wouldn't have that kind of energy. He appeared to stay with her all day. No more excursions.
Saturday I was walking down the driveway, at least 50 feet from the field's south gate, and I could hear the calf's loud sucking sounds. There was the baby, emptying her mother's udder. Now I could really be relieved - but obviously not more relieved than her mother!
We've named the runaway calf after Grace's friend Ton, who nearly tripped over him in the field the first night. Hopefully, the calf will be sold this summer when it comes time to wean him In the meantime, his mother appears glued to his side and he's growing a lot daily. You worry about kids, you worry about work, you don't expect to worry so much about your animals, but that's farming. The calf is a check for us - but the calf is also a beautiful little creature that we're in charge of taking care of, as is his mother.