Rosella Gives Birth - Part 1

It was a cold, rainy day, just right for me to stay indoors. The horses and cattle were outside, relaxing:

There was a bit of hay left in the morning, though it didn't last long:

I noticed that Rosella was lifting her tail and acting as if her mind was preoccupied. I knew she was due to calve, so I figured a birth was on its way:

Rosella walked off, leaving the other cows:


And when I checked on her, I discovered a newborn calf. Rosella was eating the afterbirth:

And it appeared that more afterbirth was coming. Yes, newborn calves have white hooves, but they darken quickly after they're born:

Rosella has always been a good mother, and she tended to her baby. I couldn't tell yet if it was a heifer or bull calf:

I went back in the house but a neighbor knocked on the door two hours later to inform me that I now had two calves in the field:

Rosella was busy tending the second calf while the first calf must have been trying to figure out where it was:

I watched the three of them to be sure everything was OK and hoping to find out what sex the calves were:

The newest baby stayed curled up and I couldn't identify its gender:

But the first calf let me stand her on her feet and lift her tail, revealing that she was a heifer calf. There is more to this story, though, and I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

It's Another Boy - But With Complications

Amy's udder had been so huge for so long that I was truly worried. One day, I walked out on the back porch to let the dogs out and saw a calf emerge from Amy's behind. I grabbed my camera and went out to see what was happening:

The calf was huge, possibly even bigger than Rosella's white calf and I'd estimate its size to be equivalent to a purebred Red Poll at 2 to 3 weeks old:

Amy is a good mother, and set out to clean her new baby:

So Teddy, the bull, has now produced one white calf and one black calf. He was half Charolais and half Angus, so these colors were not surprising. I was a bit surprised to not have a red calf, but perhaps it's just a matter of random chance:

Amy stopped for a mouthful of hay before she continued working on her new baby:

And then she continued:

I couldn't get a very good look but, from what I saw, this was a heifer calf:

The new calf struggled valiantly to stand up, but kept tumbling back to the ground:

Rosella, a new mom herself, came over to see what all the commotion was about. Amy was not concerned by her presence. They are all part of a herd, kind of like sisters:

The little one finally managed to stand briefly, but then its front legs began sliding out to the side and it went down once again:

The new calf was active and healthy, but I never saw it nurse. Amy's udder grew ever more swollen and sore looking, with gigantic teats, low to the ground. After much thought, research and prayer, I decided not to risk the little calf starving to death. Amy's last calf died mysteriously at the age of 3.5 days and I kept thinking that maybe she couldn't nurse from that giant udder and slowly starved. I didn't want another dead calf. So two neighbors came over and we stole the little thing from the field and put it in a stall in the barn. That's where we learned that it was not a heifer, but a bull calf. I named him Elvis:

I bought powdered colostrum for the first feedings and powdered milk replacer for thereafter (boy, are they expensive!). Elvis wouldn't suckle at first, but once he swallowed the first time, he was hooked. I've been bottle feeding him twice a day ever since, with a bowl of grain and a bucket of water available, just in case he wants to try them. I have a nipple bucket for when his appetite grows bigger than the bottle can handle:

It's A Boy

Of all my cows, it had been clear for many weeks that Amy, because of her full udder, would be the first to calve. But one day I walked out into the field and found a different cow, Rosella, cleaning off her newborn:

 Rocket, being young and curious, was right in the middle of everything - but Rosella didn't seem to mind. All her focus was on cleaning off her new baby:

 I'd joked that with a red mother and a white father, I might get pink calves. To my surprise, it looked green. Yes, green. The green turned out to be birth fluids, and the baby began looking grayish white as it got cleaner:

 Rosella didn't seem to mind my presence and I was careful not to be intrusive:

 Yes, the baby had its tongue out for quite awhile. Once clean, it stood up and wobbled as it tried to walk and maybe even find a teat:

 Hi, Mommy. I will follow you if you'll feed me. Of course the calf must find the teats on its own, and if they are healthy like this one, their instincts tell them where to find the milk:

 Ah, there's the feeding station!

 The new calf, besides being white, was much bigger than I was used to. Red Polls are known for small calves but this calf's father was half Angus and half Charolais. This view from behind informed me that we had a bull calf, and I named him Lucky:

 I walked back out to the field a short time later and found the baby asleep in the ditch and Rosella eating the afterbirth as it emerged. It looks disgusting to us, but such behaviors have evolved for a useful purpose:

 Being almost white, the multitude of flies were plainly visible but there was nothing I could do about it. It's just part of being bovine:

 A couple of hours later, the little one was up on his feet and traveling with the herd. I'd estimate that he was born the size of a pure Red Poll calf at two weeks old:

 The next morning, I found Lucky lying down by a fence corner. Rosella was watching him closely, so I turned off the electric fence and went to the outside of it, where I reached in between the wires and snapped an ear tag on him. He never even flinched. Lucky is now number 11:

Meet Maggie, The New Calf

I have always used artificial insemination on my Red Polls, so it is easy to calculate their "due date." Of course I know that is only an approximation, but my cows have always been four to eight days later than the due date so I was surprised when Scarlett went into labor only one day late. By noon that day I found her with a tiny, wobbly, wet calf:

The new baby lay in the grass and of course I wanted to know its gender:

Scarlett seemed to trust me, so I walked close enough to inspire the baby to stand up:

Scarlett was fine with me examining her baby but she flew into a rage when the two little horses tried to get close. I lifted its tail and declared it a heifer calf:

Gracie, the proud aunt, and the other cows came over to check out the new arrival:

I saw that Scarlett was passing the afterbirth but knew that could be a long process:

I kept driving out to take a look and see how things were going. Scarlett passed her afterbirth and it lay in the field all day until I used a manure fork to flip it into a five gallon pail and carry it out into the woods. I didn't want to attract coyotes:


I kept driving out to see the new mother and baby. Mom wouldn't come in for grain, so I drove out with a bowl of food. A lactating mother would need extra nourishment:

Also, I wanted to get a better look at the little one, who I named Maggie at the suggestion of a friend:

Scarlett is a good mother, both nurturing and protective although she also deposits her newborn calves in the grass until she's ready to nurse them again:

On the second day I noticed something wrong. Maggie wasn't standing properly and seemed to be rocking back on her pasterns as if they were weak. I quickly did an internet search and read that this often corrects itself as the calf grows. Also, since Maggie was born earlier than any others so far, I considered that she might simply be less developed. I am happy to report that the condition did indeed correct itself:

I kept bringing grain (with mineral supplements) out to Scarlett until the third day, when she came into the barn for it on her own. Little Maggie is growing rapidly and many of the photos I am getting now show milk foam dripping from her mouth. She is eating well!:

It's A Girl (I think)

Amy had been due to calve for eight days and every morning I checked, but found nothing. Her udder grew until it looked as if it would explode. Finally, one morning I looked out my bedroom window at 5:45 AM, just as it was becoming light, and saw Amy with a little calf following her around:

I went out to do the regular morning chores and then, while the other cows were in the barn eating grain, I walked out to see the new arrival:

I carried a bowl of grain out to Amy and took a closer look at her new baby, still wet but up and strong, the calf trailing umbilical cord and mom trailing afterbirth:

While Amy ate her grain, I took photos, all the while trying to ascertain the calf's gender. I've decided that it's a heifer calf although it never lifted its tail for me to get a definitive look:

So I've named her Tabitha, keeping in mind that there is a small chance I have the gender wrong (but I don't think so):

Tabitha nuzzled her mom's neck and I began to worry that she'd never find those gigantic, low hanging teats. But last year's calf had no trouble doing so, and there wasn't much I could do to intervene anyway, so I just watched:

Tabitha lay down briefly but Amy licked her until she stood back up:

It was a lovely, early morning scene:

Mother and daughter:

Blue and Remy (and another cow, Violet) came near, trying to get a closer look. Mom didn't mind me getting close with a bowl of grain but two nosy horses were too much for her and she took her calf out across the field.

I took a few more photos, this one of Tabitha licking her mom's collar:

Later in the day I found mother and daughter, both looking dry, well fed and peaceful: