I love this time of year because while it means that spring is on its way, it also means that the babies have started to arrive. And there's something incredibly rewarding for me when I see very young calves. I have seen one born, but only one. And as often as it happens all around me, it seems to be an elusive experience for me every year.
Last weekend, John and I stopped by our friends' place just down the way, and they've been in the midst of calving for a few weeks. While they have a number of healthy calves, they also had two who were in need of a little assistance. One has since died, and from what I saw and heard of him, he is better off now. They're not sure what was wrong with him, but when he was born he was unable to suck. As a result, our friends would hand milk his mom and tube feed him. He even spent two nights sleeping in their house because of particularly cold nights. For awhile he was doing better; however, he eventually started having seizures, and we learned this morning that he'd died. Like human babies, bovine babies don't always make it.
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