Hand-raising calves on the farm make us better human beings

Our jersey cow, Annie, calved later than usual and having far too much milk for one calf I had to find another calf as soon as possible to prevent her getting mastitis. Annie had reared extra calves before. The problem was finding a calf. Local dairy farms had finished calving. The bobby calf truck had stopped doing the rounds.

After many phone calls, I found a bull calf born the day before to a heifer and about to be shot. The majority of calves born to dairy cows, two million last year, are slaughtered one way or another as new-borns.

I said I’d take him even though the owner said he wouldn’t amount to much.

Ollie, as I named him, was collected and put into a shed until Annie came into the yards.

I opened the door and he ran out. He’d been allowed to suck a little colostrum so he knew about udders.

Annie took an instant dislike and despite both Ollie and I persisting, she wouldn’t take him on.

So she was milked and put on starvation rations until her supply suited her calf’s appetite.

Ollie was coping with being bottle fed and socialising with the cow and calves. They were due to move to our lease block and I didn’t want to go there twice a day to feed Ollie. A visiting stock agent told us about a farm with young calves. Angus a four day old angus cross was purchased and became Ollie’s mate.

After a year we sold all of the calves except Ollie and Annie’s calf. Angus went to a neighbouring lifestyle block to be with a small herd of beef cattle.

Sadly, Annie’s calf died. Fortunately our neighbour bought Ollie so he and Angus were reunited. Their new owners had a beast home-killed now and again so I knew this would be their fate sometime in the future. They went up to the top of the farm and I did not see them for 16 months.

Then they were put in a paddock by the road with another two-year-old steer. I knew the time had come for one of them to be home-killed. I went the fence and called them. Ollie came right up and licked my hand. Angus stood back a little. After that Ollie called out to me every time he saw me.

A few days later I heard a shot and assumed it was someone rabbiting. Later when we let our dogs out, Nell made a bee-line for the neighbour’s paddock. I could see something on the ground. Nell was eating it.

Angus was nearby. I went over and saw Ollie’s skin and a few remains.

Conflicting emotions surged. Ollie came as waste product of the dairy industry but thrived and became a good-sized beef animal.

Angus stood close to the skin mooing. I took Nell back to her job keeping wild ducks off the chook food. Then I noticed she had gone back to the skin. As she went through the fence, Angus charged her and would not allow her near Ollie’s remains.

Angus guarded the skin for the rest of the day mooing now and again and not grazing. He stayed there all night. His desolate moo was soul-searing. Later the next day he moved away and grazed, mooing now and then. If he sees