How Lucky can you be?

John and Ann Rowe and Yerrinbank Lucky

In September 2008 we had almost completed calving with Yerrinbank Birdie just about due. She was a first calving heifer, a bit over two years old, and running a bit late because she was joined a bit late. She had been joined to a handsome young bull, Yerrinbank Acheron, who already had some handy and healthy calves on the ground.

As we usually do when signs of calving show, we put Birrie where we could easily
observe her a number of times a day. When evidence of a bag,
and then a pair of white hooves, appeared a bit before lunchtime,
we said "Time for a bowl of soup and then we'll check her again."

We normally allow one-and-a-half hours from the first indications of calving
before showing signs of concern and in over 200 calvings,
two hours has been about the longest before a successful arrival.
In Birrie's case we were coming up to two hours and she was a bit distressed
and looking at us as though asking for help.

Thirty seconds of speculation.
"This isn't going to be my inaugural calf pulling experience," said John.
" Please Ann ring the vet while I walk Birrie around to the yards."

Jess, a very capable young vet, is into her second year at Greg's practice
and we were pleased when she arrived promptly. A breach birth, she told us.
It was the back hooves that were showing. The calf was a good size and not
presenting in a position to make it easy for the young heifer's pelvis.

Jess's expertise and John's brute force combined to slowly extract the calf
with Jess continuously repositioning it as it kept turning to a difficult position.
During nearly one-and-a-half hours of pulling and turning
(and reflecting on the caesarean alternative and the mother's well being)
we discovered just how trusting and stoic Birrie could be.
Eventually the awkward, heavy, cumbersome and extremely slippery calf
came free and plopped onto the concrete floor of the crush.

Jess wasn't enthusiastic about the survival potential of the calf
but at least Birrie was healthy and undamaged, although sore.

It took both of us to carry the calf to a horizontal timber fence
where Jess instructed on draping head down and pummeling
to force ingested fluids from the calf's lungs. After some minutes almost imperceptible breathing seemed to start and a very shallow pulse. Double checking with the stethoscope found a heart beat "as strong as a bull's."

More enthusiastic pummeling and a few more coughs and splutters
then the bull calf was really breathing,
his white eyes revolving to a more normal position.

Birrie who had been watching closely then decided it was time to do some intensive licking. Within 15 minutes the calf unsuccessfully tried to stand. Both front and back knuckles had bent back on themselves so it was unable to advance beyond an awkward kneeling position before collapsing.

Lifting the calf under its mother wasn't successful in spite of putting her teats in his mouth and stripping milk into his mouth. He was just not interested in sucking.

For the next two days we milked about 750mls from Birrie morning and night
and tubed this straight into the calf's gullet.
also massaging his front and back knuckles.
On the morning of day four the calf was able to stand and stagger
and about lunch time we saw him sucking from his mum.

After two weeks, the scales showed that the 27 kg born calf was 36 kg,
two thirds of a kg weight gain per day. So we tagged him and put him and Birrie out with the other cows and their older calves.

We usually name our calves after Australian rivers, but thought it more appropriate
to tag this one "Yerrinbank Lucky." Within days Lucky was swaggering around the paddock amongst his fellow calves which were older and head and shoulders above him
as though he was in charge of the farm. Lucky has a very "look at me" presence and great conformation.

You never know, he might even go to Sydney in 2010!