The Red Poll Ladies (And One Boy)

Spring has now really, truly arrived and the cattle are fat and happy:

Jasmine's rear hoof grew too long once again, but this year I was prepared with heavy duty loping shears. She is tame enough to allow me to snip off the end of her hoof while she is lying down, relaxing:

There is now ample grass and mild temperatures, neither too hot nor too cold - and the biting flies are not yet out in full force:

The girls like to nap next to the horses' corral. I find it touching that they still consider their little horses to be part of the herd:

As for the little bull calf, he's growing like a weed and running like a deer. When he sleeps, he likes to do it in a secluded corner like this one or beside his gigantic mother:

All is well right now, a blessed relief from trying to deal with crises:

"Ha ha! You'll never catch me!"

If the afternoon sun gets hot, the girls retire to the shady east side of the barn:

Gracie is a handsome cow. Alas, she hasn't been coming into heat so has not calved in several years:

Rosella and her little bull calf are doing well:

 Jasmine likes to recline in the soft grass:

The bale feeder ring is still in the field even though I haven't put hay in it for quite some time. I'll roll it out of the way one of these days. Right now there is just so much else to do!:

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:

Seen Through The Barn Door

I'd given the horses and cows their morning grain, but had a bowl left over and couldn't figure out who I'd missed. Besides, little Rocket might eat some if I carried out a bowl. I set the grain on the ground just outside the barn door and Rocket walked right up to it. I backed off and got my camera ready:

 I figured I'd take a number of shots and then choose the best one, but when I looked them over, I decided to keep a series of them because they told a story:

 Big, fat Gracie was standing next to Rocket. You can tell it's her by the two white patches on her side. Thinking they might be ringworm, I began treating them with Tinactin athlete's foot powder spray which leaves white spots. Her appetite undimmed as ever, Gracie decided to push the little squirt out of the way:


And then she finished his grain:

 Did little Rocket bawl or get angry? No, he nuzzled her sweetly as if to say, "I love you, auntie Gracie:

 And then he entered the barn:

 When he saw Remy (the mini horse) inside the barn, he changed his mind and went back outside and stood with his aunt, Amy. Scarlett, his mother, was just crossing the slippery ice in the drainage ditch to get to some waste hay:

 I followed Rocket outside to take more photos. He hasn't trusted me since he got tackled, tattooed and ear tagged (who could blame him?), but he's beginning to notice that I bring hay and grain to the herd, and that none of the other animals are afraid of me:

 Now, he regards me with curiosity, probably thinking that I'm the strangest looking cow he's ever seen:

Once the grain was gone, they all collected back on the east side of the barn, where there was abundant hay and respite from the cold wind:

Rocket's Baby Pictures

Rocket was a hearty eater (well, milk drinker) from his first morning and perhaps the fastest growing calf I've ever seen. He was eating hay at two weeks old. Luckily, his mama produces a lot of milk and is an excellent mother:

He spent a lot of time sleeping his first week, and Scarlett, his mom, made sure he always had a bed of hay to rest on:

I began carrying a bowl of grain out to him, but he preferred to try and eat Jasmine's bowl. At those times when he figured out the correct procedure, though, he enjoyed eating some grain:

 He was a cutie, right from the beginning:

 He soon learned to sneak into the barn and eat the indoor hay. Sometimes Remy allowed him to stay there, and sometimes Remy chased him back outside:

At two weeks, I lured Scarlett into the barn with grain, then closed the door on her to keep her inside. The neighbors came over and helped me capture Rocket, then tattoo his ears and give him an ear tag. It's wonderful to have such helpful, friendly neighbors:

The next morning, he began to take an interest in grain, but none of the big cows (not even Scarlett) let him have any:

 I tried to bring him out his own bowl, but given the recent tattooing incident, he didn't trust me. Look at that chest he was already growing!:

He was alert and smart enough not to get caught again for another tattoo. He also began running in big circles through the snow, just for fun:

 I checked on him often and learned not to panic if at first I didn't see him, for he was likely to be sleeping behind one of his gigantic aunties:

 Little Rocket is growing rapidly and showing much promise. I am pleased:

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!: