Calf Catching Chasing

Two weeks ago I told you about Old Momma presenting us with a new heifer calf that looks a little like Mr. Boo, but with the white markings of her mother. I soon became concerned about Old Momma’s ability to provide sufficient milk for her little girl. This was one of those persistent, and troubling thoughts which show up at 4:00 AM and tend to make sleep difficult. Of course, none of you readers have this problem, I’m sure. This must surely be a symptom of owning and raising cattle.

During the early morning hours, I considered what course to take. I decided I would give the calf a bottle of milk replacer. We’d been through the experience of making bottles for Spirit when she was born, giving her a bottle feeding twice a day for several months. Feeding this new baby should be no big problem. I decided I’d eventually be able to get the calf to come the fence for a bottle. If I get sent to a fire, Sharon would be able to prepare the bottle, then put it in a holder on the fence. This should work well.

The difference between

Spirit and this calf, is Spirit’s mother wasn’t in the picture. Spirit was born a twin with a bad leg. By the time we could get her next to the mother it had been too long and her mother was simply not willing to raise another calf. She already had a calf, and this calf must not be hers. The only solution was to feed Spirit bottles since no mother’s milk was available. However Old Momma is very willing to be a mother but her body appeared to not be producing sufficient nourishment for this new baby.

The following day, Bob came to help out around the ranch. We went out together on both quads and found the baby. It took very little encouraging to get the calf to take a little milk.

By putting the big rubber nipple in the calf’s mouth, then squeezing the bottle, I could force a little liquid in the calf’s mouth. After only a couple of squeezes, followed by a swallow, the nursing instinct kicked in and the baby began nursing on the bottle. Success.

Before Bob left for home, we were able to put about three cups of milk replacer into her. This was encouraging. We’re making real progress. Only a few more trips out in the pasture, and the calf will start looking for the bottle. This will be the best of both worlds. She’ll get to nurse her mother, and now she’ll be getting supplemental nutrition.

The next morning, Bob wasn’t working with me so Sharon decided she’d ride on the quad when I went out in the back pasture to find the calf. Old Momma had come in for her morning grain and must have left the baby tucked away somewhere. Of course, stuck in the back of our mind was the fear the baby had expired. I really didn’t think so, because the cow’s udder looked as if the calf had recently nursed.

We looked all over the place for this calf, and after a long bouncy run on the quad, Sharon asked to be taken back to the house. I finally found a very bright-eyed little heifer nibbling on green grass near the ditch. Momma must have tucked her away behind a bank to wait for her. When the baby heard the noise of the quad, she stood up to see what was happening.

As I drove up, the calf scurried away from me. I left the bottle in the quad, and started following behind her. She’s not getting much nutrition, so will tire soon. I’ll be able to catch up with her quickly.

For the next 500 yards, the calf and I walked east. She stayed just out of my reach. I puffed along behind. I was beginning to seriously question the need for additional nutrition.

Finally, she turned south toward the fence. Her mother was eating grain at the back patio gate having her morning grain. Old Momma came to the fence as soon as she saw me following her baby. Sweating by now, I finally I was able to get a lead-rope on the calf. I knew I couldn’t lead her, but the rope would keep me from having the calf run away before I could to the bottle.

Old Momma cooperated by heading for my quad, still 500 yards away, where the plastic bottle waited. Puffing and sweaty, I recovered the warm bottle of milk, let the calf back up against the quad, and tried to feed her.

The baby was not at all interested. Even by squeezing a little milk into her mouth, I couldn’t encourage her to drink from the bottle. She simply wasn’t hungry.

Because of other obligations, I left mother and baby to their own devices for a couple of days. Sunday morning, Old Momma came to the patio gate for her grain. The baby came with her. Oh perfect. I’ll heat up the milk and see if I can feed her.

Momma got her grain, and I stepped out to catch up with what I thought was a hungry baby. She took one look at me, then dashed away down the hill. At the bottom of the draw she stopped looking back at me.

I took the bottle back to the kitchen, rinsed it out, then put it away for another opportunity. Possibly Old Momma’s milk finally came in better. Or maybe the two earlier bottles gave the calf more vigor in her nursing which helped bring milk.

However, it’s difficult to supplement a calf that has the strength to run away. On the positive side, I did get my morning exercise while following the calf all over the pasture.

Brent Gill lives in Springville and is the author of: “Fire on Black Mountain” which is available now on Amazon in paperback or Kindle edition. 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