Safety of the Twins
W hen my big Santa Gertrudis cow gave birth to her third set of twins, my first thought was to make sure the cow and both calves were safe from attack by coyotes. My second was to make sure the cow and calves had the “let them both nurse” and “she’s got the milk so I gotta go to her” all figured out. Even though she’s been through this before, the calves hadn’t, so keeping an eye on everybody was the plan of the day.
I followed her as she led her babies into the field near the house for the first time. The other cattle were in the barn enjoying their morning feeding of hay. She acted as if she’d like to join them, but her little ones had already had a long walk. She took a big drink from the ditch, then started nipping green grass. Both calves soon lay down.
Mid-afternoon I went to see how they were getting along. I wanted to make sure both calves were getting to nurse. The red twin was up moving around. This indicated to me he’d gotten to nurse. The black twin was laying down. By itself, laying down is not a problem, but I was concerned they weren’t nursing equally.
The obvious solution was to put the cow and her babies in the corral to give them a chance to get the process working. Moving the calves wouldn’t be a problem. However, convincing the snooty old cow she needed to go into the corral proved to be an adventure.
I really wasn’t dressed for working cattle. I had on sweat pants, a tee-shirt, and my slippers. I’d been resting comfortably in the house most of the day. Regardless, I was here now, and the calves and their mother needed to go to the corral. There was no time to change clothes.
I dismounted the quad and moved to get the black baby on his feet. Momma was not at all happy with me bothering her calf. She likes to appear mean and dangerous, so she snorted and pawed the ground. She made several short rushes toward me as the black baby and I took a circuitous route toward the corral. The red twin did his best to stay with his mother, but she was much more worried about me being too near the black one. She never bumped me, though she came very close as I side-stepped or backed away.
After several rushes toward me, she finally walked to the top of a low ridge. This was fine with me, as it was also closer to the corral. The black calf and I followed along. When she got to the top, she turned and made a defensive stand.
The next time she made a rush, the heel of my slipper caught on the grass. I nearly fell on my back. Stumbling and spinning away, I escaped being hit by her head by inches. Collecting myself, I tried a few more times to make headway toward the corral. Apparently she had grown tired of my efforts. She resolutely held her ground.
I decided to return to the quad and consider what to do next. I drove to where I’d left the cow and her calves on the ridge.
I found the red calf had gotten tired and lay down next to a big rock. However, I was surprised to find the cow and the black calf were almost inside the corral gate. She was going to hay.
I paused to watch a moment. She glared at me, then turned and trotted into the corral toward hay. I rushed over and shut the gate. Now I had a whole different problem. Though I had her shut in the corral, I needed to sort her and the baby from the rest of the herd to put them in the middle corral by themselves.
I hurried to set up the gates and barn door. When I returned to attempt to sort them out, she was not pleased I was still bothering her. She looked at me, then toward the gate I’d opened. She thought maybe it was an escape. After one last look toward me she trotted through the open gate leading to the middle corral, the black calf close to her side.
I quickly shut the gate on her, let the other cows out, then drove back to where the red calf was resting. One more to go.
He was tired and not about to get up and run off. He wanted nothing more than a nap. I hefted him onto the quad seat, then drove to the gate and shoved him underneath. Got it done.
Even though I “cowboyed” in non-conventional sweat pants and slippers, the cow and twin calves were safely in the corral by themselves. I threw her hay, and brought her grain every morning and evening until Friday.
By then it was obvious both calves were nursing equally for they were feeling frisky. The cow had settled into her task of raising twins once again. Even so, she pawed the ground and acted bad and nasty every time I entered the corral. On the other hand, she ate every bite.
Brent Gill lives in Springville. His “Daunt to Dillonwood” column appears regularly in The Porterville Recorder through the generosity of Weisenberger’s Hardware on West Olive in Porterville. If you enjoyed this column, follow his blog at http://brentgwriter.blogspot.com.