Tuesday, September 19, 2000 9:02 PM

The past week here at the farm have been pretty rough.  It's the side of running a farm that I would rather not deal with, but alas, this is country life and we are here to experience every aspect, right?

We had a couple of "wee-hours-of- the-morning" visits from a neighbor dog that left us with a few less of my prized "exotic" chickens. 

Tim woke me the first morning, "Where's the clip for the gun?!"

"Where IS the gun?"

After a long night with Preston, our teething 10-month-old, I was more than a little groggy.  "Whaaaat?"

I remember him saying something about a dog, killed/dead silkie chickens and that the dog was still chasing others...

My poor silkie hens!  (A "silkie" looks like it has fur instead of feathers.)  Sadly, they cannot fly, so they just didn't have a chance.

As our farm dog Maggie barked from the deck, the dog wandered away. 

Well, if there's one thing we've learned, it's that once a dog has the taste of blood -- it will be back. The next morning, Tim had the gun loaded and was waiting for Maggie to announce the return of the dog for another "spree".

That dog has not been seen since, but not before it had killed at least one more of my prized birds.

Pictured here: A buff-laced Polish rooster. He’s just one of many unique birds in our flock.

Then, Friday morning, the 15th. (around 2 AM), I was awakened... (Well, actually, I don't sleep that much with two small children in the house).  Anyway, I heard one of our cows making a strange grunt noise and then mooing coming from the others, as if answering.  I thought that perhaps the calf had gotten out of the pasture and was trying to get back in with his Mother (Paddy).

The cows don't usually make noise after dark and so I *knew* something was wrong.  I woke Tim around 2:30AM.

"It's just Extra Stout being a bull", he answered and returned to bed.

I went out on our deck and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark night.  It wasn't Extra Stout making that noise at all.  It was one of our two females that we believed to be pregnant (and due to deliver anytime).  Oddly enough, the grunt noise she was making was approximately 3 to 4 minutes apart -- could it be labor?!

Tim woke me a few hours later after the sun had come up.  "We DO have a new calf!"

It was Malty The Highland Cow's first calf.  Malty had it as close to the house as she could have, which was the total opposite of what Paddy did -- she had *her* calf in the upper pasture.  It was *days* before we saw her calf.  I watched our new little calf all morning from the living room windows.  Something wasn't right.  It couldn't stand on its front legs and it didn't try to get milk from its Mother (although Malty never left it's side).

I called the vet.  They said to bring it in, thinking it had broken a leg in delivery (or any number of problems).  I panicked thinking, "How am I going to haul it there?  There's no way to get it away from the herd anyway!  I would get charged FOR SURE by the other cows the way they are protecting it.  Besides, I'm here ALONE with Erin and Preston.  I couldn't leave them unattended..."

I snapped myself out-of-it.  The calf *needed* help and it couldn't be any heavier than our goats and I have packed THEM in my arms before!  If I could get the other cows into the adjacent pasture and close the gate...YES!  This could work!  I could fit the little calf into the back of the Range Rover NO SWEAT.  That would be a pretty comfortable ride for it anyway.  It would just be a matter of pulling up to the gate...and if Preston were ASLEEP and Erin watched from the windows...heck, is there ANY chance that Malty might follow the other cows to the pasture if there were FOOD involved?

Preston dozed off.  When I asked Erin if I could go give Malty cow a drink of water, she said, "I wait here Mommy", and went back to watching Sesame Street. I'm thinkin', "GREAT!  This could work!"

The plan went like clockwork. Malty even left the little calf all alone.

I loaded *everyone* into the car.

The little calf,

Erin and finally a drowsy Preston filled the back of the "Zebra Chaser"

We were on a mission!

We made it in record time. 

Sadly, the little calf was suffering from a birth defect and ultimately had to be "put down". As-it-turned out, it's a good thing that I acted as quickly as I did, because the little calf would have surely starved to death.  The vet explained that the birth defect caused it to be born with a deformed lower jaw, so it *couldn't* eat from it's Mother.  (They tried to bottle feed it at the clinic, but it couldn't even do that, so the vet tube fed it instead.)  It was unable to stand due to one leg being twisted inward (also a typical part of this birth defect). We discussed options other than putting it to sleep, even if it was crippled, it was a *pet* so that would be fine with us.  The vet understood, but knew that the calf just wouldn't make it regardless of our good intentions. You can see by the photos *why* it was so hard to make that decision -- it was so cute!

It had no chance. I can't begin to describe how horrible it was knowing that nothing else could be done.  The vet assured me that it was, "just one of those things".  Malty didn't begin her milk production, because the calf didn't try.  This was good news for Malty's health.  She has taken to "Mothering" the other calf (that was born the end of April) and seems to be doing well.

It's always an adventure here at Black Pond Farm -- just not always a positive experience. Next year we will see how Malty does.  She will be a little older and that will help.