mama's & calves in the spring time

                All these baby calves and mama cows.  It is a beautiful, bountiful spring.

Prunella and her Bull calf  

Prunella and Labora are the star cows for now.  They are young, small, and doing excellent work raising their babies.  Out in the pasture yesterday, we looked closely at their udders and saw no signs of trouble.  All quarters looked even and overall their udders are not tight.  It appears that the their calves are nursing on all four teats and keeping their mom's problem free.  So we still have not brought either one of them up to the milk house.  That will come with time.  I look forward to interacting with them both.

Labora and her Bull calf  

Morgana's calf has perked right up and appears to have declared that he will LIVE!  He nursed on Morgana that morning in the holding pen after the previous night's dose of colostrum from Isabelle.  We sent him out with his mom that morning.  That evening we saw him alone in the barn but Morgana was soon there to feed him.  We watched him latch on to her teat independently and felt confident that they needed no more assistance from the humans.  The next day he was way out in the pasture with her, walking well and even running a bit with his tail in the air.  The little guy has embraced life beautifully. Morgana is a patient, attentive mother for him.  It is a joy to see.

Morgana and her Bull calf - SURVIVOR!  

I milked Sweetie yesterday without the kickers and without any fuss or bother from her.  She's really quite pleasant to milk on some days.  Miguel milked Whitney from her side (not behind), but still with the kickers on.  She will get used to us milking her eventually.  Probably...
        Isabelle is an interesting case.  I remain hopeful for her and her calf.  When her calf did not stand or walk much on his 2nd day, we brought him up to the yard to be cared for and fed by the humans.  Isabelle's udder is difficult if not impossible for him to nurse from.  She allowed him to remain with us without any protest.  That is unusual and not an encouraging sign for either one of them.  We fed him two more feedings with her colostrum.  One of these he took from a bottle and the 2nd one he was so weak that we used the tube and feed bag.
On his third day he still walked only a few steps independently.  Other calves that same age would be running and frolicking in the pasture.   We decided to move him out of the yard with us and to a place along the lane where he could be with Isabelle.  We kept feeding him with the bottle.
         Isabelle has been dropping huge amounts of weight and her bones are sticking out dramatically.   We decided that possibly she was terribly depressed and wondered if her colostrum was contributing to her calf's lack of spunk.  We fed him a bottle of milk from the other cows .   Ten hours after that feeding he was on his feet unassisted and looking a bit better.
           Yesterday we found Isabelle in the barn with her head low.  She looked really bad.   We walked the still improving calf to her and she came out of the barn and showed interest in him, mooing softly and licking him all over.  He took a bottle of milk from the other cows.  He had a strong suck and went after the bottle with a good appetite.  Isabelle looks even more gaunt now.  It is shocking how much wieght a cow can lose in such a short time.  Each one of her ribs are visible and her hip bones are clearly exposed.  We think the only thing that might save her now is being with her calf and seeing that he is doing ok, or better than he was.  We will not milk her anymore, allowing her to absorb and stop producing milk.  Hopefully she will start eating again and begin to reverse her decline.
       The depression part makes a little bit of sense for this particular cow.  Her calf was dead last year and she required miguel's physical assistance to birth it out of her.   I distinctly remember her acting incredibly depressed for a long time after this happened.  Is it possible she never recovered from that event?  Something made her udder grow to such unhealthy proportions.  Is this more evidence of some hormone imbalance?   I am eager to head out today and see how the two of them are doing.  We will continue to feed her calf milk from other cows and pray for the peaceful result that comes.

Isabelle now

Isabelle a few years ago  

Isabelle giving her baby a good licking  

care?

     What does it mean when someone says they care about someone else?  There are an infinite number of ways to care about some one.  If two people live 3 states away, and there is never any face to face, phone, e-mail, snail mail, or any other contact between them, do they care about each other?  Seems like if one of the people is elderly and unable to initiate those forms of contact, then the other person could take the time to reach out and show that they care.  If the younger of the two people occasionally talks to other people in the family about the elderly person, does that mean that they care?  Seems that possibly they say that they care when really they are nosey and just wanting to give the impression that they care.  If they really cared, would they send a card?  When it was made known that the elderly person very much enjoys receiving snail mail but the younger person never once mailed a card or a picture of their young children, do they still care?  Aren't they just feeling guilty that they don't interact with the person?  
These are some common definitions of "CARE":

noun

1. 1. 

   the provision of what is necessary for the health, welfare, maintenance, and protection of someone or something.

   "the care of the elderly"
2. 2. 

   serious attention or consideration applied to doing something correctly or to avoid damage or risk.

   "he planned his departure with great care"

verb

1. 1. 

   feel concern or interest; attach importance to something.

   "they don't care about human life"
2. 2. 

   look after and provide for the needs of.

   "he has numerous animals to care for"

     In the provision of what is necessary, seems like sending a card in the mail would contribute to the health and welfare of a lonely Grandparent.  I guess if someone just feels concern or interest in
another person, they wouldn't need to take any action to express that feeling.  They could experience that feeling and not share it with the one they were concerned or interested in.    So according to the first verb definition of care, someone on the outside of a relationship may not be able to know that one person cares about another.  That is a personal experience of feeling and does not, by definition, require any action.  I imagine that it is potentially uncomfortable for a person to feel concern or interest in another person and not express it.  This discomfort may manifest as anger towards those who are actively expressing their feelings of concern through action.  It may manifest as guilt and gossip.
From now on, I will find a better word than care.  I want to do more than just care about people from afar.  I want to be involved in their life.  I don't want to sit back feeling concern or interest in someone and allow it to go unexpressed.

partnership

Prunella in Sept 2013.  She was born to June, the cow, in
June of that year.  She is named to rhyme with June, and after the
wild flowering perennial herb, Prunella.  

     I walked Prunella down the road.
She was calm and I was able to walk right next to her, just a short span of rope between us.  It felt like trust.  It felt like all the time and kindness put in with her was paying off.  I felt confident.  I know how to lead a cow down the road.
      Its spring time on the farm.  The grass is growing now.  The pasture down and across the road has a lot more to eat currently than the one here.  There were 17 cows on this pasture.  It was time to move some of the animals down the road to the other pasture.  Four of them willingly moved across the road at the gate.  Three others that we wanted to move would not go easily.  I knew that if we waited until tomorrow, I could put a halter on them and lead them peacefully down the road.  It would also be good practice for them, to have on a halter and be close to a human.   I knew it would be fun.  I love moving the animals like that.  They're big and its wonderful to have a powerful animal  trust me enough to walk down the road on a halter.
     Prunella went into the milk house in the morning and she just stood there, not going in to a stanchion.  I calmly approached her with a halter.  She let me gently slip it over her face and secure the buckle.  She was not confined, she could have moved, but she didn't.  I clipped the rope on and lead her out of the holding area, into the road.  She walked with me down the road.  I enjoyed the trip and let her take her time.  Sometimes I quietly spoke gentle encouragement, but mostly we were just quiet, walking.  It felt like partnership.
     When I got back to the milk house,  Nettle was already tied up with her halter and rope.  She came out of the holding area and into the road.  She didn't want me to be too close.  I let a long length of rope between us.  I paid attention to her energy and gently encouraged her forward sometimes.  Mostly she led me along.  She went into the new pasture with the other cows.  I tried to take her halter off and she resisted my being that close to her head.  I tried to hold her rope and close the gate but she pulled and got away.  I knew I could not safely allow her out in the pasture with a rope dangling from her halter.
        I followed her for a bit and she kept getting the rope caught under her feet so she was scared and couldn't get too far away.  Thankfully she stayed in the barnyard and did not run out into the larger pasture.  I kept following her and stayed focused on the rope, not looking at her to allow her to relax a bit.  I made a few grabs and she ran away scared.  I let her be for a minute and she started quickly munching on the thick, new grass.  I got down on my hands and knees, with my head towards her rear end.  I kept my eyes down, away from her head to let her relax and not create more intimidation.  I moved along the ground slowly towards her while she was munching and gently held still if she looked at me.  I made a grab for the rope and missed as she bounded away.  Nettle returned to eating and I got down on the ground again, slowly and calmly moving towards the rope.  Sending her gentle energy the whole time.  Letting her know I was going to help her by removing that halter, then leave her alone to be a cow.  She kept munching and I was able to get close with my rear towards her head.  I made a grab and reached the rope.  I stayed on my knees and held on.  She pulled away and I stayed down, not looking at her and not saying anything.  I stayed still and then quietly explained what I wanted to do.  I slowly got close to her and was able to release the buckle on the halter.  She jerked her head away and left me laying on the ground, halter and rope in my hand.
      Complete triumph.  I had done it.  All alone.  Caught a scared cow by her rope and stayed calm enough that she allowed me to remove her halter and set her free and keep her safe.  That felt so good.  I am good with the animals.  I know how to pay attention to their energy and I listen to what they need, which helps me get what I want.  Things like moving them to a lovely, lush pasture and keeping them safe.  We are partners.  I appreciate my relationship with each one of them, more than I am able to express.  They are true teachers and they stay true to themselves, allowing me to practice listening and respecting them as individual, independent beings.   Working with a cow is being in the flow.   It feels amazing.

Nettle in September 2014.  She was about two years old here and
had successfully given birth to her first calf.  Nettle is named
after her mother, Yarrow.  Both are wild herbs that grow
abundantly on the farm.  I collect and dry these plants for making
herbal tea.

  

I am a nurse

He was young.  His body was strong.  He was probably good looking.
His family sat with neighbors around their backyard fire pit.
He ran.  He jumped, headfirst into the fire.  Into the flames.
Now, I imagine he was above us in that room,
   watching.
We struggled and fought to bring him back.
Back down to his physical body.
His elderly parents stood against the wall,
   watching.
I brought her forward to the bed, touched his foot.
She reached out, she held onto his foot.
The Medical Doctor said something,  take them to the waiting room.
There was chaos in the room.  We were losing the fight.
I looked at the Doctor.
The Father stood against the wall.
I looked at the Mother.
She held onto his foot.

kitty love

Resting after a long drink at the milk pan

How much do I love this kitty?  How can a human love a kitty so much?  Every time I see her I get all warm and my heart aches a little and there is a strong desire to pick her up and squeeze her.
This is baby kitty, or 'the grey one', as we sometimes call her.  She does not necessarily require a more formal name.  Maybe as the years go by and there are other baby kitties... we shall see.
     She was one of a litter of four.    Mama kitty had them in the chicken coop, which is where she had her litter last year also.  By the time I moved back to the farm on September 28th, this little grey kitty was the only survivor.  Life is tough for kittens on a farm.  Maybe it was the dogs?  We don't want to say for sure.  We believe in and support the circle of life here.
So she survived.  This made her special from the beginning.
      And her fur!  Oh, her fur is so soft and luxurious.   It does not work for farm life at all.  She almost always has at least two chicken feathers stuck somewhere in her fur.  That is what started our bonding process.  She let me pick her up when she was so tiny and I started grooming her.  She was covered in sticky burrs from the burdock plants.  So almost every day I would go out to the chicken coop and scoop up my baby kitty.  As we sat in the sun she would let me pick out the burrs.  Meowing and 'complaining' the whole time.  But in my lap she would lay, like a Queen.  And each day she was easier and easier to pick up.  Now she comes up to me in the yard and talks and whines, I just love her.  There is some kind of magic in developing a friendship with a wild baby kitty who lives with her mama in the chicken coop.
       Baby kitty's sister from last year's litter had a baby herself this year.  Well, she had two.  One of them survived the tough life of a kitten on a farm.  This baby kitten has never been touched by humans.  We see her sometimes, hiding behind things in the barn.  Or we may see her out in the yard, but only when we are up in the house looking down.  She is WILD.  I guess she may be a he, no way to tell from this distance.  Anyway, this baby kitty makes me so happy and grateful that my baby kitty let me pick her up.  Day after day after day.  She accepts me as a friend and likes to lay in my lap while I scratch her neck and ears.  She lets me pick out the burrs, which is terribly satisfying for someone with a case of obsession/compulsion.
       Cats are really special beings.  There are four dogs on this farm and one of them adopted me as her human.  Pepper follows me every where and I enjoy her company.   But she is insecure and needy, just like a human in many ways.   Baby kitty likes me, that is clear, but she can take me or leave me.  Our friendship is equal, balanced, satisfying.    The cows of course are lovely beings.  They are nice to hug and smack on the butt.  Sometimes they will let you scratch them behind the ears.  But they are separate in a way.  There is no real intimacy there, probably because they are enlightened and are unable to connect to me and all my human emotions.  Baby kitty is crazy and she meows a lot and rubs against my legs and chases things in the yard and seems to have some quality that allows me to feel connected to her.  Like we experience things in the same way sometimes...
       Well this is starting to sound a little crazy for sure.  All I really wanted to express was how much I love this little grey fuzz ball.  Love her in a way that only a cat can allow a human to love her.

That is mama kitty in the foreground.  (Well, now she is really grandma kitty, but I like to call her mama.)    Kitty drinking out of the milk pan is mama kitty's survivor from last year.   Her baby is the WILD one.  
 All the chickens and cats get along.  Its so fun to watch.   

Average day

Wednesday Oct 30th 2013
     Got up a little later than usual.  It was real foggy out.  Took a rope along on the way out to get the cows.  Miguel used it to capture Curly the horse.  He was at the salt block, escaped again from his pasture.    Moved Morgana, Yarrow, Morgan and Jolene towards the milk house.  He came up then, gave me back the rope and headed off to get Belle.  I was able to get the rope on Labora's halter and start moving her towards the little pasture.  She followed better than yesterday and it was a nice sensation to be walking along side such an animal.  Labora is big, a nice looking calf, maybe 4 months old.  I felt honored that she would walk with me.
   Today I milked Yarrow and Morgana.  Brought a warm, fresh quart of milk in to the kitchen after chores and made the kefir.  Made fried eggplant and hash browns while Miguel was out capturing Curly again.   We made toast then too and enjoyed it all together.  Sat on the front porch and drank our tea after breakfast.  It was so warm and sunny and still.  Just an unbelievable day for the time of year.  Socks off, I ended up being barefoot the rest of the day, almost.
     Miguel took our neighbor, his father, into town then.  There were a few things we needed and Dean doesn't drive well anymore, so it worked out for everyone.  I went last week, but this time he wanted to pick out a new chain saw.  I picked up two buckets of apples and set them next to the buckets Miguel had collected yesterday.    Started up the tractor and loaded the apples and 3 buckets of milk into the tractor scoop.   Grace the dog came running down the road looking for Dean.  She followed the tractor and our four dogs down to Jake's.  The pigs were waiting at the fence for their breakfast.  I dumped milk in their pans and walked all the apples out into their pen.  They came right up to me and let me pat them on the back.  They're not so jumpy and scared of us anymore.
     In the drive way, our dogs had Grace circled.  She was holding her own but I called them off.   Grace came over to me and I scratched her ears and called Pepper over to see.  Trying to make them understand that Grace is our friend and its not ok to attack her.  I think it helped a little bit.
Walked out then to count the cows.  I could think of eight for sure and I found eight in the pasture.  Later Miguel said that there should be nine out there.  There wasn't anyone stuck in the swamp though, so we'll look again tomorrow.
     Rode the bike down to the bull pasture to fill the water.  Miguel's sister Margi was there and she had already filled it for us, which was a nice surprise.  She talked quite a bit about her ideas to make Dean's life easier and relieve any anxiety or worry he might have about anything.  She seems to maybe be struggling with watching her father decline with age as she remains unable to practically assist him from her home in Iowa.   This is a common problem in our society today.  I pointed out that she is describing something that rarely happened in our culture 100 years ago.  Family members lived geographically closer to each other, neighbors knew and took care of each other, old people were looked after just like young people are looked after.   Miguel and I are taking it one day at a time with Dean.  There is no easy answer to the situation he finds himself in and we're not looking for one.  So far, things have been going well and we are all learning and adjusting as we go.  I felt her frustration that the situation would not be 'handled' before she returned to Iowa, and I silently celebrated that I am not leaving the farm.  I get to stay and deal with things day by day, as best as I can, with my partner Miguel.  It is an honor to participate with Dean and his life.

firewood goes in the wood fire cookstove  

     Then we checked the weather and decided it was important to get firewood today, because tomorrow its going to rain and Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are all booked up with processing the bull and planting trees.  I got to use the new chain saw.  It is four pounds lighter than the old one.  Miguel gave me a lesson and watched me cut a little.  He corrected me when I wasn't keeping my left arm locked and explained that's how to stop the saw if it kicks back.  It is physically challenging to cut up wood.  And we were cutting it on a hill with lots of brush.  I was pretty nervous and taking my time.  Being a trauma nurse for 10 years gave me an active imagination when it comes to things like chain saws...  It was a pleasure to learn that I have truly trained my body to strive for balance.  Even though this was the first time I've ever really used a chain saw, I could feel my muscles repeatedly trying to move the saw into my left hand, giving my right arm a break.  Instead I learned to alternate which leg was forward and that helped maintain some balance.  Muscles will have to be developed before I am able to cut for any length of time.  I am glad to cut down on the amount of time Miguel has to use the saw.  Sharing this work will be good for him.
     We stacked the wood on the front porch and I closed the chickens.  They gave us two eggs today.  Thank you chickens!   We sat out on the deck for a bit in the dark.  It was still so warm and pleasant.  Now its raining and time for bed.  Another day on the farm.  I am excited to see what tomorrow will bring.  Every day is a gift of work, good food, learning, and loving.


    

mother?

     Mama hen went 'broody'.  Her behavior changed from walking around the yard with the other chickens to sitting in the nest box.  For twenty-one days, she sat in the nest box, keeping eggs warm and turning them.  When she did leave the coop, another chicken took her place.  This happened rarely, this was her purpose.  For twenty-one days she sat on eight eggs.
       The evening of Sunday, May 26th there was barely audible peeping coming from her nest.  I did not lift her up to see, but said good night and went to bed so excited for what morning would bring.

  As the early morning light brightened the sky, mama hen let me lift her warm body to reveal what she had brought into this world: three fuzzy, strong chicks.  I lowered her down and watched as her belly feathers enveloped their tiny lives.  After we milked the cows I took the chicks and placed them in their new home, a cardboard box with clean straw and a bright, warm light bulb.
      It is difficult to reconcile this action.  We are asking the chickens to be in relationship with us, to leave their mama and travel to the 'city'.  They cannot say no, yet they participate in this relationship with vigor, bringing us much joy.   I vow to take excellent care of the chicks, to provide them with the highest quality of life possible.

This vow and my actions that fulfill it, this is all I can offer that mama hen for her precious gift.  The gift of three precious beings that teach and share and participate in a new and glorious relationship with their humble humans.
 
thank you mama hen