1 week Ago By Jenny Schlecht
The phone rang at 3:49 a.m. I didn't answer.
The voicemail left a couple minutes later was about a winter storm warning — a notice I didn't need. When you have cattle , you tend to be ahead of the warnings. I rolled over to see that my husband was missing, not surprising this time of year.
I found him in his recliner in the living room. He'd discovered two heifers and one cow in active labor at 2:30 a.m.
He brought them in the barn to calve out of the elements and in separate pens away from each other, then returned to the house to give them time to settle down to work. We'd had a relatively snow-free winter, and those of us with cattle around here have enjoyed it immensely. We'll need moisture eventually to stave off drought conditions, but we'd prefer it fall as rain in a month rather than snow now.
Few of the calves born here this spring have had to fight the elements in their early days, and they — and we — have been happier for it. The ground had been bare on the evening of March 31. But a storm was brewing — just a bad April Fool's Day joke on us for thinking winter might be over .
And with the first early morning flurries, we knew it was likely we'd have a long day of caring for new calves. If you haven't experienced it, the idea that a spring storm will bring calves could be passed off as a myth, like the idea that 90 days after a fog there will be moisture . When you're looking for something to happen, it's not hard to bend perceptions to see what you want to see.
But in the case of spring storm calving, research has shown it's true: Something about changes in barometric pressure during approaching cold fronts bring on labor. So we had known a wave of calves might come, even if we hoped they'd wait a couple days. The expectant mothers were progressing by my husband's next check at 4:15 a.
m., but I got a text at 5:17 a.m.
that just said, "Have to pull." One heifer had calved by the time my husband went out, but it had looked like he might need to assist the cow and the other heifer. Thankfully, by the time I pulled on some clothes and coveralls, filled a jug of water to clean things up and walked to the barn, the cow had calved, too.
That left us with one heifer who was struggling to deliver. The pull was pretty quick and easy. We bedded down a pen for mama and baby, then we retreated to the corral to bring in one more calf that had been born outside.
I pulled the calf to the barn in a sled while my husband brought mama in behind it. Every pen in the barn was full with the four born in that hour and a couple from the evening before, so my husband and father-in-law, who had come out to do his normal early morning check, planned to bring in more panels and shift animals around to maximize shelter. I returned to the house at 6 a.
m. Wind pushed wet, pellet-like snow at the ground at an angle, and everything was white. It looked likely to be a long day, and as I'm writing this, it's far from over.
Another calf was born later in the morning, with more likely on the way. We'll do our best to keep everything warm, and spring conditions should have returned by the time you read this. Eventually, this will become a funny story about the time we had piles of calves on April Fool's Day, during one of the only snow storms of the season.
But not today. Today, we all could use naps..
