Silently

If there was one thing I could change about calving season, it would be this.

This crappy, horrid bug that jumps up and can kill a calf in a few hours. Overnight, a happy, healthy calf can turn to this.

Fortunately, Daniel has gotten quite proficient at giving IVs. A razor shaves the area in order to see the vein.

I don’t do much, just hand Daniel what he needs. But I’ve adopted this little girl as “ours”. There is no magic cure. We give three bags of fluid and assorted medicine, never knowing which one will do the trick. But as she lay there, she begins to poop and pee, good signs that her stomachs and intestines are beginning to work.

We put her in a little pen, with added warmth, and wish her well as we go check on other cows and calves. I know the odds are not in her favor, but there she is on my calving shed camera that night. I was not excited in the morning to check on her… too many times my heart has been hurt. Finally, I did, and there was Lacee and Tess, giving her a bottle of electrolytes! She was alive! I quickly texted Tess, thanking Lacee for her extra good care…

Then again, today… more electrolytes and the little bugger is hungry! Yay! We are not out of the woods yet… we’ve babied them for weeks, only to have them crash. But every day is a win and we will take it. This bug is seemingly random, and mean, and fast… and this is why, when rude people say ranchers don’t care about their animals, I want to lose it. This HURTS. Once they’re born, everything should be hunky dory, but it’s not necessarily. We will keep our fingers crossed for this one, and silently mourn the others we’ve lost.

Find me here!

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