IT'S A BOY!
On July 23rd, at 1:31 pm, our lovely Guernsey heifer, Cookie, gave birth to her first calf, a little Guernsey/Jersey bull that my girls are calling Butterscotch, or Butters for short. Mom and baby are doing well, bonding and nuzzling and romping happily together.
Now that the main excitement is out of the way, I'd like to share the journey it took us to get here: a newbie farmer family getting their milk cow, getting a baby calf, and on the path to getting milk. Commence rambling (apologies in advance for the LONG post):
If you haven't already, you can read about our experience of getting Cookie here. Picking up where we left off... after we got her home, there were many things we had to do to be responsible owners of a big bovine. The first thing our local large animal veterinarian recommended was to have a stanchion/head chute prepared and to train her to get into it easily. We would be using the stanchion for milking and if we needed to hold her still for shots or examinations.
We used recycled wood from a collapsed barn on our property to make a sturdy wooden stanchion with a headlock. We used an old tire to hold grain or hay and Cookie will do just about anything for a little bit of grain. She daintily stepped on to the stanchion platform and munched away on molasses covered grain while we brushed her down and patted her teats (so she got used to our hands on her) and whispered sweet nothings into her ears.
We quickly discovered that Cookie, at two years of age, is considered a teenager in temperament. Every 21 days, she would go into heat, bellowing and mooing and drawing the attention of all the cows in the local area as she paced up and down her pen in full hormone mania. And we also learned that cows jump fences. You wouldn't think so because they're such big animals, but the nursery rhyme of the "cow jumping over the moon" is based in truth. Whenever Cookie was in heat, she would jump the fence searching for a potential suitor. We had to speed up our timeline and get this big girl pregnant or she was going to wreak havoc on our perimeter fencing, endanger herself and possibly our neighbors and their property as well.
We got a milk cow so we could have milk. But you don't get milk from a first time heifer until they have a calf... so how do we get our cow pregnant? There are a couple options:
1) Get a bull or rent a bull.
-If you raise a bull, you can create your own herd with the breed traits that you'd like on hand, a "closed herd." It's "easy" in the sense that you don't have to hire someone, worry about hormones or track hormone cycles. Let nature take it's course. A bull will do what a bull does. They will "cover" the cow multiple times during their scheduled rendezvous so you can be very sure that he did his job. When it's your bull, you know it's health and temperament and there aren't any genetic surprises.
For us, this didn't seem like the right route, at least for the time being. We only have one cow, and she wouldn't be enough company to keep a bull out of trouble, especially during the times where we wouldn't want them to be together. We could barely contain our relatively docile heifer. The fencing requirements for a bull are that much more intense. I read so many articles and heard stories of people who were pinned or killed by a bull that flipped and became aggressive. This was a risk that wasn't worth taking. Maybe in the future if we raise a bigger herd and we are more confident in our homestead infrastructure, but in this case... not today.
-If you rent a bull, you don't have to worry about keeping it contained for any longer than the 1-3 day window of the cow's heat cycle. And once everything is done, the bull goes home, and you have a pregnant cow.
We don't have a stock trailer and therefore no means to transport a bull to our homestead. I'm sure that if we had managed to find a person with a suitable bull, they perhaps would also have a stock trailer to transport him, but the next concern is still fencing that could contain them both, even if it is a smaller time period. I literally had a nightmare where a bull escaped his pen and went on a rampage with me scrambling to stow my children away to safety. So again, no bulls.
Also, Cookie is a Guernsey. She's kind of a rare breed in our area, and also we wanted to make sure that the bull would also be A2/A2 and have a good pedigree which isn't always available information when local bull-renting.
2) Artificial Insemination
-This can be convenient if you don't have access to a live bull. If you're already looking for a specific breed or genetic profile, you can shop around a bit more and are not limited to geography.
Going this route can be expensive. (Not going to lie, renting a bull or owning is also an expense) Not only do you have to pay for the bull straws of semen, but also the inseminator and the hormones administered prior and storage (because you wouldn't just throw this into the chest freezer in your garage. They have to be in liquid nitrogen---that being said, you can "save" your ideal bull semen for a large window of time), and subsequent blood tests.
It is not a guarantee of pregnancy. A first time heifer has a 75% chance of getting pregnant via artificial insemination. A cow (meaning anything other than a first time pregnancy) has an even less chance, at around 65%. If it doesn't work, you have to use another straw, another round of hormones and another insemination.
We chose to go with option 2. It really took a toll on my internet search history, but I scrolled through pages and pages of potential bull specimens for our lovely lady. Who knew there were so many candidates? I felt like I was playing matchmaker and perusing dating profiles. Some bulls were described to have "delicate face structure" or "dainty feet." Others were brawny and well-muscled with broad shoulders and sturdy hips. Everything from the color and texture and length of their hair, to the types of milk proteins the females in their lines produced. You could look up pedigrees going back several generations to be absolutely sure that the bull you used to build your herd was the exact kind you were looking for.
My husband was kind enough to let me obsessively search and choose our bull specimen. I had a few requirements:
1) Must be A2/A2 genetic lineage. We have an A2/A2 cow. If our cow happened to give birth to a female calf, we would also like that calf to be A2/A2 in the chance that we end up keeping two dairy cows.
[Brief sidebar: What is A2/A2 milk? I am not an expert or well-studied on this, so I'll be very brief to minimize making errors. A2/A2 means that the milk contains a beta-casein protein labeled "A2" versus "A1," the protein found in commercial dairies in the US today. Why this is significant--because human breastmilk (along with goat and sheep milk) has A2 beta-casein proteins, so essentially you would consume milk that was closer in profile to human breastmilk. Why does this matter? Many people consider this to be the most healthful milk. Also, if you happen to have digestive issues drinking commercial milk, a lot of times it does not happen with the A2 variety because it is easier to digest and doesn't trigger an inflammatory response in the human gut like A1 does.]
2) I wasn't necessarily needing the bull to be a Guernsey. It's a harder breed to find in the US, meaning the straws would be expensive. Also, it's a fairly large breed, and while Guernseys are known to be good at calving, I was open to a smaller breed to make things less difficult at birth. I was also considering dual purpose breeds, meaning breeds that were raised for both meat and milk. (Also, I personally find "mutts" to be stronger animals of any species, anyway)
3) Gentle temperaments and strong body structure would mean a cow that was easier to handle and require less intervention to be healthy. I wanted an easy cow, easy calf, easy everything.
4) Polled. No horns. Don't want to worry about when and how to cut off horns. We've gotten relatively comfortable with Cookie's horns, but it would be that much more enjoyable to deal with an animal that wasn't potentially going to gore you, even if it is by accident.
5) Not black. Because we live in a place with long, hot summers and black coated cows feel it the most, and they also attract the most flies. Didn't want a calf that was going to suffer.
Eventually, I found a bull that ticked all my boxes and then some. Meet Alvin:
Alvin was (he is no longer with us but his semen samples live on) a standard-sized Jersey bull. He is homozygous polled, meaning all offspring will have no horns. He has a short wide head and wide muzzle to "add strength to any herd." He is also Kappa Casein: BB and Beta Lactoglobulin: AB, which essentially means that females born from him will produce milk that makes GREAT (easily curdles into big chunks instead of being fine curdles more for yogurt) cheese. His dairy sire code characteristics (which is a thing that I had to learn) says that he will provide strong udder, feet, legs and lungs; healthy appetites, less prone to injury, and easy milking; open udders, easy calving, and long breeding life. He was a stud! Literally. (Anyone interested in looking up Alvin can see his profile and other very nice looking bulls at holtcreekjerseys.com )
So now we had a bull sample being shipped in liquid nitrogen, and we had to get Cookie ready! For a first time heifer, the hormone process is relatively simple. One giant T-shaped applicator the length of my torso is inserted to the cervix of the cow where a hormone device is placed for 5 days.
[Mini sidebar: when the vet gave me the pack of hormone shots and the hormone applicator she must have seen my eyes go wide. She assured me that it was very easy, and cheaper if I did it instead of having a home vet visit. "Just YouTube it," was her advice to me. And sure enough, many good tutorials exist online. The wonder of the internet.]
Two shots of hormone are given during this window---a firm slap on the space between her ribcage and hip, and then a firm jab into the muscle. Withdraw the plunger of the needle to check for bubbles or blood (we want bubbles) and then plunge and apply pressure after removing the syringe to stop bleeding. Five more days later, our veterinarian came, gloved up and lubed to her SHOULDER and inserted the bull straw into our cow, who was now fully in heat.
During this procedure, our vet told us to make some changes to Cookie's diet because she was very overweight. Dr. Becky had a hard time getting to Cookie's cervix because she was so fat. She had to trim down to have a healthy pregnancy and deliver a healthy calf. No more grain treats, and no high protein alfalfa. Just grass (which makes sense, cows are grazers). One month later, I had to draw some blood from the central vein in Cookie's tail (another YouTube lesson) and drop the sample off at the lab to get a pregnancy verification in the mail.... And we were pregnant!
The rest of the pregnancy proceeded without much to-do. On her new diet, Cookie was looking trim. Because she wasn't going into heat every three weeks, she wasn't jumping the fence anymore (no longer cutting herself on fencing and riling up our dogs and dragging my husband all over as he tried to rein her back) and being all-around lovely. The only difference we saw in her physically was that towards the end of her pregnancy (the gestation for a cow is nine months like for humans), her udder started to swell and become visible. When we first got her, her teats were wee little nubbins hidden behind her back legs. Several months in, the udders had swollen and teats were visible.
As her due date drew near, it seemed to me that Cookie's udder was doubling in size right before my eyes. The bag hung to her knees and the teats took on more of a conical shape---like the inflated fingers of a glove. The space between her tail and her hip bones grew wider as those pin ligaments loosened and lengthened for the impending delivery. And the flesh of her vulva became looser and more protruding and often streaming mucus. This was the longest time I had ever stared at the backside of an animal and paid such close attention to the anatomy. My husband and I would take pictures and send them to each other:
"Do you think this looks like she's ready?"
"Is this a mucus plug? Are the teats conical enough?"
The week of her due date, my husband had to go out of town for work. Also my parents were out of town. I KNEW because of Murphy's law that she was going to deliver while I was home alone with four young children. And it was going to be a difficult birth and I just had visions of me out in the field with ropes attached to me yanking on a stuck calf with a big angry cow on the other end. Thankfully my fears did not come to fruition, but her due date came, and went... and the next day, and the next day... I read that one to two weeks post due is normal, but any longer and one might have to call in a vet for an emergency C-section. Ah!
In California, we are having a blisteringly hot summer. The heat had started earlier than usual and was relentless. And since we had such a dry winter, it just seemed that much more unbearable to everyone. Last week however, the summer showed a bit of mercy and we went from 110's to low 90s. "If you're going to have calf, you should do it now," my husband would tell Cookie as he did the animal chores.
[Sidebar: normally, cows are bred so that they calve in the winter/spring. They are hardy to the cold and this is done so that when the calf is big and strong, they are able to start grazing with the spring grass and can cope with the heat better because they're older. As newbie cow owners, we didn't plan for the timing of the birth, we were just anxious to get it done. Lesson learned for next time.]
Then Friday morning, my husband poked his head in on the way to the office and said, "Just so you know, Cookie didn't come to eat this morning. She's just laying under a tree in her field."
Cookie never skips a meal.
Two hours later, I tugged on boots and a hat and made the trek out to where our cow was laying under the shade of a big oak tree. I was going to go back inside because she was just lazily looking at me through half-opened lids when I saw her bear down and break her waters. It's happening now!
The kids came. The grandmothers came. My husband came during his lunch break. It was hot. We were all standing in full sun because the cow was taking up all the shade and we didn't want to impede on her space while she was in labor.
She did tremendously. I was so proud of her. She would push with calm determination during each contraction. Out emerged two white hooves and then the little bump of a nose. There was a great whoosh and the whole calf emerged. Cookie immediately jumped up with eyes wide and she mooed and cooed at her little baby, licking it furiously and nuzzling it and turning around and around inspecting what she had just birthed. It looked up at her with wide eyes and snuffled and sneezed and then proceeded to try and stand on shaky, wobbly little legs. Each time it would attempt to stand and fall over in a mess of limbs, Cookie would low to it in concern and begin the process of licking off the leaves and dirt he had got stuck on him again. It would stand up and take a shaky step and then stumble, and they repeated this process over and over.
My husband brought a tub of water because Cookie had been outside of her pen for the entire day at this point.
[Sidebar: this was done very cautiously. Even a docile cow before pregnancy, can turn fierce because their mothering instincts kick in, and they can kill you if it is a perceived threat to their new baby. Thankfully, Cookie was very gentle.]
She drank deeply but would pause and moo whenever her calf moved anywhere out of her line of sight. It was a curious little thing and wandered over to snuffle at my husband at which point, Cookie followed and licked at his arms and stood very happily as if to say, "Look what I made!" She was so affectionate with her little baby, but because she was constantly turning to look where he had wandered off to, whenever he tried to suckle onto a teat, she would circle around to lick him and they would go around and around each other. We decided it would be best to walk him back up to the pen and try and tie her to the stanchion so he could nurse without his mother being so protective, but she refused to let him out of her direct line of vision.
A calf's gut at birth is incredibly porous, and they need to eat colostrum (the first milk after birth) immediately to get the immuno-complexes to close their gut and keep them healthy within the first 1-2 hours after being born. I got the emergency calf bottle and was very happy to find that Cookie was streaming colostrum, all over everything, except into the calf. We got a little bit into the bottle and the little calf sucked and got all foamy and bubbly around his mouth, but he was tired from the walk up the hill, and tired from the heat, and Cookie kept knocking him over. They're supposed to ingest about 1 gallon in that first 24 hours, and at this rate, it was not going to happen.
We decided to give mom and baby some space and some quiet. We left them alone in their pen (with me hiding behind a tree to watch), and if the calf had not successfully nursed by the next hour (which would be the 3 hour mark), we would intervene again with a bottle. After a little time alone, and having found a nice shady spot, Cookie finally felt comfortable enough to stand still and little suckling noises could be heard. We were latched!
With each passing minute, he was more confident in walking, and was soon skipping around the pen. He is currently taking many naps throughout the day. He always has a milk mustache on his nose when we go out to check on him. He needs to eat every four hours or so, and seems to be doing this just fine, and then some.
Around 6 hours later, Cookie expelled the placenta and consumed it eagerly. Some people take it away from the cow, but she seemed very happy eating it so we left it at that. She did such a great job cleaning everything up. Her calf, which the children have named seems to be growing each day. He has buttery soft ears and his snout is always wrinkling and flexing as he breathes. We are all quite enamored and so is Cookie.
Now that he is here, the next step on this journey is to figure out milking. But that's for another post.
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