Breaks your bloody heart sometimes
That's farming, sometimes it will break you heart and other days your left in a world of wonderment and pride. Sometimes, just sometimes, that all happens in just the one day.
I started farming journey nearly 5 years ago and early on purchased 4 cows and a bull, Lowline Black Angus or Miniature Black Angus, to fit on my small farm. Year 2 into the journey only one cow was old enough to have a calf and and all went well. As a new farmer I though this was real easy this cattle breeding thing, I was glad I paid good money for quality stud cattle in the first place. Things seems so good I sold that first calf and two of the other cows yet to calf for an increased profit. It reckoned even though I was a very small breeder I would be able to make some money each year out of selling off stock to other small farmers.
So I still had my bull, the cow that had the original calf which I knew had quality off spring and could deliver without complications and also had the best of the heifers which was by now heavily pregnant. Disaster struck. The little heifer's calf was the wrong way around and got stuck with just one of the back legs managing to get out. The vet came and despite 2 hours of work, needles, scalpels, epidurals, chains and lots of pulling the calf had died earlier and had swollen inside her enough to be sure it was never coming out that way. The young heftier was exhausted and in pain so I made the decision to end her life and that night my small heard was halved.
Move forward 3 years and history begins to repeat itself. The daughter of my remaining cow now old enough to breed herself and just one week off the birth of her first calf goes down with 3 day sickness. Three Day Sickness or Bovine Ephemeral Fever is spread by mosquitos and other bitty things. In cattle they suddenly get a very high temperature and they just lay down as if to die, pretty much where ever they were standing at the time. You consider yourself lucky if they lay down under the shade of a tree and unlucky if they lay down out in the hot sun or close to water where they may roll into it. Generally they won't move for the 3 days and all you can do is keep feed and water under their noses and hope they get through.
For a young heifer to have her first calf in the middle of this fever where she is already depleted of any energy and so run down she can't push the calf would be devastating. That's what I mean when farming can break your heart. When my small heard was just getting the opportunity to grow again I'm faced with this set of circumstances. Day 2 of the three day sickness and the calf comes early, a week early at what could not be a worse time. My worst nightmare is realised and the calf gets stuck, just like before.
It's impossible no to question yourself - was she old enough, was there something else I could have done, could I have given them tick and worm treatment on a different schedule, could I have sprayed them for buffalo fly earlier in spring. Well with farming, like life, you just have to play with the hand your dealt and try to find a way through. If that happens to be another grave dug with a tractor up on the hill then so be it, as devastating as that would be.
The vets arrive, prognosis is not good, the birth sack is not broken and contains blood, initial thoughts are the calf is dead, just like before. The young mother is exhausted and no longer pushing and the calf's feet have gone back inside.
All hell is now breaking loose, a massive thunder storm has hit and the rain is pelting down so I'm madly digging trenches around the barn to keep the amounts of water out washing down from the hills while the vets work on the heifer to save her at least. It seems so impersonal calling her the heifer - her name is Kike, (which is the Swahili word for female). An epidural is administered and an episiotomy done to have a go at getting the calf out.
The first bit of good news, the calf is the right way around. The chains are wrapped around the legs and the pulling begins but this calf wasn't waiting any longer. With a great flush and a cry from the mother who's neck I'm now sitting to hold her still, this little calf had arrived. The vet unceremoniously, yet totally professionally no doubt, tosses the calf up onto the rails of the barn knocking wind into it's lungs and then digs some after birth out of it's throat - "We have movement we have life", I'll never forget those words.
Say hello to a real little fighter, the bull who shall be called Shaka.
To the wonderful vets at Maleny Veterinary Services I can't give enough praise, to Devon who treated her 3 day sickness to give Kike the chance to have her calf, to Lauren who brought the calf into this world and breathed life into him and Logan the vet student who today delivered his first calf - I thank you all, enjoy the champagne I've since delivered.
So I still had my bull, the cow that had the original calf which I knew had quality off spring and could deliver without complications and also had the best of the heifers which was by now heavily pregnant. Disaster struck. The little heifer's calf was the wrong way around and got stuck with just one of the back legs managing to get out. The vet came and despite 2 hours of work, needles, scalpels, epidurals, chains and lots of pulling the calf had died earlier and had swollen inside her enough to be sure it was never coming out that way. The young heftier was exhausted and in pain so I made the decision to end her life and that night my small heard was halved.
Move forward 3 years and history begins to repeat itself. The daughter of my remaining cow now old enough to breed herself and just one week off the birth of her first calf goes down with 3 day sickness. Three Day Sickness or Bovine Ephemeral Fever is spread by mosquitos and other bitty things. In cattle they suddenly get a very high temperature and they just lay down as if to die, pretty much where ever they were standing at the time. You consider yourself lucky if they lay down under the shade of a tree and unlucky if they lay down out in the hot sun or close to water where they may roll into it. Generally they won't move for the 3 days and all you can do is keep feed and water under their noses and hope they get through.
For a young heifer to have her first calf in the middle of this fever where she is already depleted of any energy and so run down she can't push the calf would be devastating. That's what I mean when farming can break your heart. When my small heard was just getting the opportunity to grow again I'm faced with this set of circumstances. Day 2 of the three day sickness and the calf comes early, a week early at what could not be a worse time. My worst nightmare is realised and the calf gets stuck, just like before.
It's impossible no to question yourself - was she old enough, was there something else I could have done, could I have given them tick and worm treatment on a different schedule, could I have sprayed them for buffalo fly earlier in spring. Well with farming, like life, you just have to play with the hand your dealt and try to find a way through. If that happens to be another grave dug with a tractor up on the hill then so be it, as devastating as that would be.
The vets arrive, prognosis is not good, the birth sack is not broken and contains blood, initial thoughts are the calf is dead, just like before. The young mother is exhausted and no longer pushing and the calf's feet have gone back inside.
All hell is now breaking loose, a massive thunder storm has hit and the rain is pelting down so I'm madly digging trenches around the barn to keep the amounts of water out washing down from the hills while the vets work on the heifer to save her at least. It seems so impersonal calling her the heifer - her name is Kike, (which is the Swahili word for female). An epidural is administered and an episiotomy done to have a go at getting the calf out. The first bit of good news, the calf is the right way around. The chains are wrapped around the legs and the pulling begins but this calf wasn't waiting any longer. With a great flush and a cry from the mother who's neck I'm now sitting to hold her still, this little calf had arrived. The vet unceremoniously, yet totally professionally no doubt, tosses the calf up onto the rails of the barn knocking wind into it's lungs and then digs some after birth out of it's throat - "We have movement we have life", I'll never forget those words.
Say hello to a real little fighter, the bull who shall be called Shaka.
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