Yesterday was Home Depot trip #3,489.  I was perusing the light bulbs.  One last bulb for the house- front porch, to be exact.  We’re nearly done with our house building project.  Don’t think I’ll miss driving 30 minutes to the closest Home Depot every week.

My phone beeped.

Text from Oldest Daughter.  “New calf!”

Me- “Wow!  Everybody ok?”

She- “Yep. I pulled it out because she couldn’t get it out further than the nose and front feet.  M. (granddaughter) got to watch.”

(Oldest Daughter is 5’2” and a whopping 90 pounds and has never been around cows until she and her husband purchased three cows recently.)

Me- “You’re a vet now!  M. must be going to be a doctor or a nurse.  She isn’t squeamish!”

She- “Nope!”

She- “It was the coolest thing!”

Me- “May we come?  Or would it be better tomorrow after she’s recovered?”  I wasn’t sure which ‘she’ needed to recover more.

She- “Come!”

Upon our arrival, our joy quickly turned to concern.  The calf wasn’t up.  She was wet and shivering, huddled in the rain-drenched grass in the cold wind.  Husband, having been around cows all his childhood, knew the calf was in trouble.  He alerted us newbies to the danger.  All of us swung into action to save the newborn calf.  This was mama cow’s first baby.  She seemed at a loss.  Oldest Daughter ran for towels while son-in-law lifted the shaking calf to her feet and nudged her toward mama cow.  Baby was weak and unsteady and whenever she approached mama’s udder, mama shifted out of baby’s reach.  Uh, oh.  Baby goes down hard.  She’s on her side jerking.  Her head goes back and eyes roll as her legs slide under the fence and catch.  Daughter dashes up just in time sink to her knees gently cradling baby’s head while slipping the legs free of the fence.  She’s coaxing baby, talking low and soothingly.  “Sweet girl, don’t die.  Come on, please don’t die.”  I stand by helplessly.

We take turns rubbing the calf with the dry towels, but she remains on the ground.  Mama wanders off.  What to do?  I offer, “How about if I drive to the feed store and get some powdered colostrum and a bottle for baby?”  I do know the calf needs nourishment in the form of the first milk or it will die.  Off I sprint to our car while the others hover over baby, and mama munches grass at a distance.

I’m racing against time because it’s near closing time for the feed store.  Of course, a slow vehicle is ahead of me on the narrow road.  I’m praying for the calf, the family, and for wisdom for all of us.  I round the bend to see that there are still trucks in the feed store parking lot.  (You have to drive a pick-up if you live here.)  They’re still open.  I explain the situation to the kind clerk who shows me the colostrum powder, a bottle, and a bucket and tells me to ‘strip the engorged teat.’  I’m thinking that I have no idea how to do that, but instead, I nod knowingly.

Back at the ranch, it’s clear that the mama is not going to let that starving baby get any milk, so Daughter rushes to the house with the powder and the bottle to prepare a warm drink for baby.  Son-in-law and I have a short discussion and he picks up the calf in his strong arms and carries it to the three sided woodshed where there is shelter from the cruel wind.  He sends me to the shop to get grain with which to entice mama to the woodshed, too.  Daughter returns with the bottle.  I try to feed baby the bottle while Daughter works on coaxing Mama into the woodshed.  With the combined pull of desire for a treat and concern for her baby, mama cow finally enters the woodshed where we hope to detain her in a confined space so baby has a better chance to get to her.  Son-in-law tries valiantly to put baby on a teat, but mama sidesteps and then raises a hind foot to push baby away.  We decide the udder is painful from engorgement and should be milked to relieve the pressure just like the feed store lady said.  SIL tries his best to milk her.  Having had no experience with cattle, no milk comes out.  Daughter steps forward and commences to get milk out in a steady stream.  Husband tells her to squirt baby in the face with the warm, sweet milk to arouse a stronger desire to nurse.  The second the milk hit baby’s face, her eyes lit up and she moved closer to Mama with help from me.  Being weak, she needed me to hold her up so she didn’t collapse on the cement floor.  SIL was holding the container of grain in mama’s face.  She was so busy eating that she allowed baby to suckle.  Sweet success!  The most engorged teat was drained in a couple of minutes while Daughter kept the teat in the calf’s mouth and I held baby between my legs supporting her with my arms wrapped around her midsection. A vague memory of my father milking with his head on his cow’s side came to mind and so I leaned into mama’s side, talking to her quietly.  Daughter was praying softly and complementing mama.  Two teats were emptied before mama got restless and baby got full.

We knew we still had a long way to go, but for now, baby had a chance at survival.  We all relaxed a little when suddenly a small voice piped up from behind. “I know what we should name her.  Shivers!”, said Granddaughter.  And we all laughed, nodded in agreement and took a collective breath.

You know what struck me about the whole episode?  Each of us is equipped to help in different ways.  Husband with knowledge, SIL with strength and drive, Daughter with innate abilities and calmness, and granddaughter with boldness and articulation.  It made me think of how we all need each other.  None of us is equipped with all the gifts necessary for a good life.  But by working together, we are able to accomplish what no one person could.  Even those annoying traits in another person are just a small part of their personality that has so much to offer when channeled. That brought to mind what the Bible teaches about working together to bring spiritual well-being to all.  No one is an island, as a famous poet said.  We need each other, both for what they can contribute to us and also for the joy of what we can contribute to them.  We were meant to work together just like our bodies are made up of many components working together.  God’s plan is for people of faith to meet together regularly and help each other become better.  It’s called the Church.  

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