The Graft

When a calf dies, we often try to get the mother to adopt a calf whose mom is either unable or unwilling to take of him.  A calf might die because of a birth defect, but the cow will go on to produce healthy calves in later calving seasons.  We want to save her, instead of sell her, especially if she is a "good" mom, so we try to keep her milk production up until we have a calf that needs a new mom.  Candidates for adoption would be calves whose moms are sick, crazy, or who don't have milk.  A sick cow cannot care for her calf because of the physical toll it takes on her body.  The crazy cow kicks her calf away, sometimes killing him before we can get to him.  Then there is the occasional cow that doesn't make enough milk, and her calf doesn't thrive.  In these cases, we will take the calf off its mom and "graft" it to a good mom.  A good mom is healthy enough to take care of the calf, has plenty of good quality milk, and likes her calf.  She cleans him off when he's born, encourages him to nurse, and stays near him. 

Tonight my husband had to put down a calf who wasn't going to pull through a severe infection.  We had another calf whose mom wasn't making enough milk, and we'd been bottle-feeding him for at least a week.  Bertha brought the live calf down to the shed in the calving pasture.  Together we skinned the dead calf.  Almost as soon as we were finished, the dead calf's mom walked into the corral, mooing for her calf.  She stood right where her calf should have been, sniffing the ground, eyeing us with suspicion.  We chased her into a pen right outside the shed.  She could hear the sickly calf inside.  We took the skin and made holes for his arms and legs.  Then we slipped the skin on the calf.  It looked like a very warm coat.  Then we let the mom inside.  She sniffed the calf.  She knew something was different, but she kept him close by, mooing softly at him.  We coaxed them into the pen, got the cow into the head catch, and positioned the calf to nurse.  He took off right away, eagerly slurping down the warm milk.  She calmed right down, and pretty soon we let her out of the head catch.  The calf went right back to nursing, very peacefully.  A situation that could have been sad (for the good mom) and costly (for us) had a happy ending for both. 

What I Did Today

This afternoon, my husband's grandmother came out to the ranch.  She and I each took a 4-wheeler to the calving pasture.  We were going to take cow/calf pairs out of that pasture.  While we were looking for pairs, I noticed one cow about to give birth.  The amniotic sac was hanging out of her.  I made a mental note and moved on.  When we were done putting out pairs, I drove back to check on her.  The bag had burst, and I could see hooves sticking out.  I noticed the white parts (bottom side) of the hooves were up.  This means the calf is either backwards (breech) or more rarely, upside down.  This is a problem because the calf usually suffocates before the cow can get him out.   I called over my husband's grandma and asked her to go back to the house to get my father-in-law.  While she was gone I guided the cow to the barn.  When my father-in-law got there, we chased the cow in through the back gate.  She was almost in the barn when suddenly she turned around and started running towards the gate.  I hopped off my 4-wheeler and swung the gate in front of her.  She paused, giving me about a half a second to jump in front of her and lock the gate.  She turned and ran back towards the barn.  We finally got her in the pulling pen and pushed her into the head catch.  I slipped some straps over the calf's feet.  My father-in-law put the calf puller on her and pulled the calf as far down the bar as he could.  A natural occurrence during childbirth is the release of maternal fecal matter.  This is no different in cows.  At one point, this cow squirted my father-in-law pretty good.  I am laughing about it now as I type it.  But at the time he told me to cover her anus so that wouldn't happen again!  He had to manually pull the last third of the calf's body out because it was so long.    Finally, the calf slid out.  He was enormous.  My father-in-law released the head catch, and the cow mooed over her calf.  She liked him.  She will take care of him.  I am so proud of myself for spotting the backwards calf.

Building Bridges and the Story of Dead Man

During the winter we keep our yearlings in a little pasture behind the krell.  Every morning we have to ride out and herd them into the krell to eat.  This pasture is divided by Dead Man's Creek.  Legend has it a young cowboy who worked in this area was on his way into town.  He wore silver spurs and carried 6 silver dollars (his month's wages).  Along the way, robbers overcame him.  They shot him, but then they got scared.  So they buried the cowboy along a creek with his silver spurs and 6 silver dollars.  They planned to come back for the silver when it was safe.  But time passed and they never got a chance.  On his deathbed, one of the robbers confessed to the murder and the missing loot.   Folks started calling the creek Dead Man.  For years, people have searched for the dead man and his silver, but no one has ever found him. 

Here is Dead Man's Creek. 

Anyway, back to the yearlings.  When the cows get on the other side of the creek, we either have to go all the way around, or else we have to risk crossing the creek through the creek bed, which in the winter is usually full of snow and mud.  It is sooo not fun to be stuck in the snow.  Those 4-wheelers are surprisingly heavy.  Also, my father-in-law, Bud, likes to build things.  So he commissioned our hired man, a welder by trade, to construct a lightweight bridge. 


This is the spot they decided to put the bridge.  Pretty much impossible to cross with a vehicle.

Bud and his wife, Bertha, loaded the bridge on the pickup trailer.  Bertha drove the loader, Bud drove the pickup.
 

Bud backed up to the creek.

He kept backing up until the bridge rested on the other side of the creek.

Bud directed Bertha to drive the loader over to the front of the bridge.

He chained the bridge to the loader bucket.

Bertha lifted the bridge up, while I drove the pickup forward.  She let the bridge down, and it rested on the ground.

The baby and I tested the bridge (she was tucked inside my sweatshirt).  I'll be glad to have it this winter when I'm gathering those yearlings!

In the meantime, I'll keep my eyes open for those silver spurs and 6 silver dollars...