Moo-sic? Or just a cow having calf..

Monday is band practice for Reuben and Miles.

Both are taken to the reading room at Muker, one of our local villages, for an hour’s flugelhorn and cornet with the rest of the silver band.

Clive usually takes them, spending an hour in the pub while they practice anything from the classic Floral Dance to solemn hymns or James Bond themes.

This week Clive was at a meeting and it fell to me but, before we set off, Miles and I went to fodder the cows.

I did a head count and realised I was one short.

She wasn’t far away, laid quietly among the rushes, calving. Just the tips of a pair of hooves were showing. We IN TUNE Mum and calf watched for a while then decided to leave her be, go to band practice and hopefully when we got back she’d have calved.

Band practice had been cancelled but we didn’t know this, so it was a wasted trip.

“I’ll just go and check on the cow,” I shouted through the farmhouse door on our return.

Taking my torch I headed to the field – she hadn’t progressed at all.

I knew it was time to intervene. Raven phoned the vet while the other children, who were showering and getting ready for bed, donned waterproofs and wellies.

By the time Clive returned we’d walked the cow into the barn, put a halter on her, and had a bucket of hot water and a towel ready for the vet’s arrival.

By midnight we had a calf born by Caesarean, a relieved cow – and a lot of tired children.