My husband bought me a Cadillac for Christmas. It’s a lot of fun to say, especially if I leave out about it being twenty years old and high mileage. But, does that really make a difference? He thought I needed a tow vehicle so I could get a trailer. I kept thinking it would be fun to tie a bow on it and do one of those obnoxious Christmas gift pictures. But I can’t even force myself to be that obnoxious jokingly.

I bought myself a trailer to pull with it. A pretty little matching horse trailer, modified so it can serve as a stock trailer too.

Our theme song is Chris LeDoux, Caddilac Cowboy, “horse trailer on a Cadilac, talking to the cowboy in the Coup Deville” 🎶

I’m very fond of my tow set up. It’s very pretty and frivolous. I feel a little embarrassed driving the obviously made for horses and play get up out here in ranch country with the big stock trailers and work pick ups.

Today my toys did some actual work. I was so proud of them. We hauled the last of the pairs to pasture. Calves in my trailer. It’s too dainty to load down with cows, but calves it can handle. Cows in the big stock trailer. I felt pretty dang ranchy 🤣

Then came home and carefully hosed it out so it could be pretty again and not covered in calf poop.

Blossom came to us immediately after she was born.  Her mother was one of those very painfully old cows some people like to keep around and let die on the place. She managed to push her calf out, then was done.

The calf wasn’t moving. We grabbed towels and went to rubbing her down. She laid in the grass in the sun in front of the barn on a warm spring day as she slowly woke up and eventually started to move. We gave her a bottle. Then tried to give her a mom. When no one would accept her and she wouldn’t accept them we took her and kept her for us. She grew up alongside Ghost. Our two bottle calves, cows now, life long companions.

As a cow she is great, when she calves. Raises a calf as big as she is. But she hasn’t bred back well. I really thought she was open this year. She showed no signs of calving. Until two days ago. She was running with the late and open cows out on corn stalks when I spotted signs of immanent calving. In no rush because she had just started showing signs I took Rusty out yesterday and we brought her in. She got to go in the calving lot with the other cows who are getting close. Up where she could be watched and would be close to help if needed.

This morning, the very next day, she was ready to calve. Good thing I didn’t wait any longer to bring her in. But, she’s an old pro. This shouldn’t be a problem.

All day I watched her. She paced then stood off by herself. Then this afternoon she laid down and got to it. But nothing happened. I had been watching and worrying because something just felt off. Before the water bag even showed I was checking her every half hour. Waiting for a sign of actual lack of progress so I’d have reason to bring her in. Then finally the water bag. She had half an hour. I carefully checked the time, then came inside, paced a little myself, washed dishes, got super ready and decided at twenty minutes that I was going back out.

There was no change. She was coming in.

My long suffering husband had come along, poor guy. He helped as we pushed her to the barn. Got her ran in while I got the chute ready. Held her tail as I reached in past my armpit.

The hooves were pointing the right way, pointy side up. Pointy side down means the calf is backwards. It appeared to be the right way, but I couldn’t feel the head. Thinking it must be turned back I groped about. Then I realized that instead of knees I was feeling hocks. It WAS backwards. And upside down. Yay. Thinking back to all the reading I’ve done about this scenario I seemed to recall reading that they couldn’t be pulled this way. Everything was bent the wrong direction.

A glove was pulled as I made a frantic call to the vet. It was after hours, of course, but she was in the office! She assured me that it could be done. Try to find the tail head. Use that to try to rotate the calf. If you can’t rotate the calf it can still work. Go ahead and try. She would be at the clinic for awhile if we couldn’t get it.

With that reassurance I dove back in.

We had brought Blossom in before she spent too much time pushing. The calf was still well down inside. Searching for the tailhead I kept reaching. Up to the shoulder. Ear pressed against her tail. Still no sign of the calf’s tail. I was going to need a shower immediately. Giving up on rotating I went for the calf chains instead. The feet were small, the chains went on fairly easy. And we pulled. The calf was tiny. Good old Blossom is a big cow. We pulled crosswise trying to straighten out the calf as we pulled.

And it came. It came out with amazing ease, rotating on the way.

Soon a perfect little heifer splashed to the ground.

Dragging her out of the chute, into the barn, we propped her on her belly in recovery position. She sputtered and coughed and breathed. With a sigh of relief we let Blossom out to great her new baby. Her first heifer.

Her first heifer who is alive and healthy because we didn’t wait any longer to see if Blossom would be able to calve on her own. A mature cow shouldn’t need any more than half an hour to calve once the water bag is out. An hour if you are sure you are seeing progress. After half an hour there were no feet visible. There was no reason to wait any longer.

This is also the reason we bring cows into the corrals to calve. If Blossom had still been out on cornstalks I wouldn’t have known she was having problems and if I had caught them it would have been a long walk for her and that calf to a place where we would be able to help them. It isn’t that we want to make the cows stay in small corrals. It’s that we want the cows safe and close so we can help when needed.

Blossom and her pretty little heifer are both alive and well, and spending the night in the barn. Now I need a name for a Blossom baby. Spring, for spring Blossoms? May? It’s spingy and will fit easily on an eartag.

Ghost has set a Guinness World Record!

Most tricks by a cow in one minute. She did stay, come, self rope, spin, bow, stand on pedestal, fist bump, kiss, ring bell, and say yes.

We made our attempt in early March. Guinness carefully takes three months to give results. Unless you’d like to pay more. So we had to wait patiently until now to find out.

Interview CBC radio  https://www.cbc.ca/radio/asithappens/ghost-guinness-smartest-cow-1.6895706?fbclid=IwAR1oDf15syzyBtSbPgzpwxbNXZF3P5NBp6HlryHFQVR2ekU50mBy51pGVj0

Guinness https://www.guinnessworldrecords.com/world-records/730746-most-tricks-performed-by-a-cow-in-one-minute

News paper story https://sheridancountyjournalstar.net/news/item/5403-a-cow-named-ghost-and-her-owner-megan-reimann-secure-their-spot-in-the-guinness-book-of-world-records

The weather has been very clearly predicted. For the last few days all we’ve heard about is the coming storm. Snow predictions measured in feet, howling winds, nights with temps around zero.

It’s the middle of calving season. As much as we all want grass and some moisture for the coming year, no one wants this.

The weekend was spent getting things ready. The heavies, the springers, the cows closest to calving, are already sorted off and in a pen with good shelter, close enough to keep an easy eye on. I saddled up and made one last trip through the rest, pulling anything that looked remotely close to calving. Even one who I’m pretty sure is just so obese that everything on her jiggles. I don’t actually believe she is bred, but better safe than sorry.

Once all those were in we went through them all again. Looking carefully to try to choose between the ones who look like they could calve, eventually, and the ones who are teetering on the brink. Those were brought in even closer into the best possible protection we have. They were tucked away with plenty of feed and straw bales to bed down on. I was gratified to find two new calves in there the next morning. We had selected well.

Then a cow calved out in the usual calving pen.

Dang it. How do they do that? No matter how closely you look them over there’s always one who calves the day after you sort, in with the ones you didn’t choose.

Although it snowed all morning, the afternoon was clear. The calm before the storm. I went to brig the pair in. The cow saw me coming and started pawing when I was half way across. This was going to be fun. It was a pleasant surprise when she picked her little heifer calf up and walked quietly and agreeably across the pen. Because of course she had the calf on the far side. I got ahead of myself thinking how good this was going.

We got to the mud puddle at the gate, because of course there is a mud puddle at the gate. The calf stopped to sniff and it all went to heck. The calf hooked onto the fourwheeler and would only follow me, not her desperately calling mother. And only when I was going away from the gate. Not if I drove in the direction I wanted them to go. The mom was getting grouchy and looking me very intently in the eye. The other cows were minding their own business trying to eat. Until we disturbed them and they had to get in on the fun.

Finally getting the calf between the fourwheeler and the fence I was able to give it a shove, move her a few feet ahead. Then I’d pull the fourwheeler ahead to catch up. Then shove the calf along again. In this slow leapfrogging manner we made it through the gate. As soon as I puled away the cow came running.

We were almost there.

I closed the gate behind the pair and asked them to keep going. The cow, head high, looked me in the eye and said no. I stepped through the mud puddle to ask them to go. I felt a slight tug. Before comprehension set in I set my foot down and felt icy water through my sock as my bootless foot sank down into the muck.

My boot had stayed behind with the last step. I was nose to nose with a grouchy cow, ankle deep in muck, wearing only one boot.

Apparently the noises I made at that point were scarier than anything I had offered up until then. She showed that she really could get her calf to move if she actually wanted to and off they went. I was forced to chose between putting my ‘muddy’, we all know there’s a lot more in that muck than mud, foot back in my nice clean boot and hopping back to the fourwheeler half shod.

I shook my foot as clean as I could get it and put my boot on. Now the cow would be in the warmest safest spot I could get her to. I hope she appreciated it. On the cold drive back to the house I was starting to think I should have left her!