A Late Addition Bum Calf

In mid summer, neighbors spotted a bum calf off by itself and though no one could get very close, the ear tag indicated it could belong on the NXX. The Head Honcho and I rode our cattle, the neighbors’ cattle then found the calf two miles away from the Head Honcho's nearest cows. But she clearly belonged to the outfit so we trailed her home. 

It was beastly hot so we let her rest in some shade while we rode home for dinner, then returned later to finish the trip. We finally got her close enough to lead her in with the milk cow’s calf, although Taboo was a little leery of the little fur ball that bawled like a calf but didn't much look like one. She had never seen anything that looked quite like that calf did.

The bum was one pathetic little critter. Her hair was long and dull, her tail was covered with manure balls and her belly was huge from malnutrition. On her best day she hadn’t looked good as she has a Roman nose and a cleft palate, which allows her tongue to protrude from the missing nostril. 

It took four days of fighting her before she would accept a bottle, then 3 weeks of her chewing, swishing her tongue around, swallowing or choking, then repeating the procedure. Feeding her was a long, slow process and I caught whatever came out of her mouth and nose to feed to the cats. At each feeding, I was covered with milk and slobbers.

But now, nearly a month into this process, I’m a proud mamma! She started sucking! And she does it with no coughing, choking or nasal discharge.

The baby likes her grooming so the manure balls are gone from her tail, her hair is slick and wavy from her licking, she loves her grain and hay, and she comes to me to be haltered for her meals. She’s more like the other calves now - she butts and wants more milk than her regulation 1/2 gallon at each feeding. 

The last 2 days I’ve been able to stand upright in front of her rather than stooped over her head with a leg on each side of her neck. This is such a relief to my back that I’m almost delirious with joy.

I am sorry to say that in about a week, along with Taboo and Bull Pen, the bum I’ve been feeding, she’s going to be weaned.  This almost breaks my heart - but not quite. I’ve been milking for 6 months and am taking the next 6 months off. Well - off from that responsibility at least!

The Head Honcho has said over and over that HIS DAD SAID, that anyone that cared about their milk cow wouldn’t let a calf suck her. I understood this to mean that they didn’t put bums on the milk cows. But when I complained about how rough my milk cow Bugaboo’s calf was to her, backing up to get a full head of steam up before hitting her udder, the Head Honcho just repeated the refrain, “My Dad said that anyone that cared about their milk cow wouldn’t let a calf suck her.”
“Do you mean her own calf?” I asked in wonder.
“Yes, of course.”
“You mean you always milked and bottle fed the milk cow’s own calf?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You’re kidding! I thought you meant bum calves.”
“No. Any calf. We always milked and fed the calves.”
“On a bottle? All of them?”
“Well, a bottle or a bucket. But it’s not so easy to train them to a bucket.”

For days I dreamed of buckets, but decided not to even try that. I just weaned Taboo from her mom and forced her to take a bottle and fed her with Bull Pen. That took a few days. She was snotty, refused to suck, kicked at me. Taboo had had an attitude from birth, and I was not fond of her even though I love her mom. Well, her attitude changed about the day she decided she’d suck a bottle. Gone were the kicks, the butts, the whole obstinate attitude. What a revelation! I had no idea that she was an obnoxious snot because she sucked her mom, and that she would become a docile sweetheart who came to be haltered and tied, who liked petting and rarely butted when I bottle fed her. Her behavior change alone is one great reason to bottle feed.

But it is a lot more work…for five months now, I’ve milked and fed both calves. When I started feeding Taboo, my milking time nearly doubled, as did the bottle washing. 

Basically, I enjoy milking, largely because I have the sweetest milk cow in the whole world. She’s a doe eyed Jersey, and I started her as a two year old. I know, I sound like I started a colt. But it was kind of the same as I got to start her so her habits suit me. She didn’t know milk cows were to be milked on the right so I milk from both sides - I’m short and this saves my back. A little. With increasing back problems, I’ve considered selling Bugaboo, but when the pain recedes I know I’m not ready to give her up. And what a blessing she is during calving! 

The guys, of course, think this whole deal of me having a milk cow is a great solution to calving problems requiring milk. I do all the milking so their only effort is to say, “Do you have any extra milk?” And that answer is always, “YES!!!” 

I don’t know how much milk most off-dairy Jerseys give - that is on dry land pasture rather than hay and grain -  but this little work horse was giving well over 4 gallons per milking in early summer. Before that, I simply milked every time I walked by her to keep her bag from splitting wide open. The cats, chickens and dogs started running away every time I showed up with a bucket in my hands. And although I make cheese, I rarely have time to do it at the height of milk production amid calving. 

I figured out the other day that when I get 2 gallons of milk every 12 hours, Bugs is making nearly 2 cups of milk every hour. That’s amazing to me! How can that little bitty cow do that? No wonder milk cows are just skin and bones!

But no matter how much I love her, enjoy milking and want to see the new little bum grow to her full potential, I’m worn out. Every moment of my life - and therefore the Head Honcho’s life as well - revolves around the three hours of milking and related chores. If I have an early date to rake hay for instance, I have to get up even earlier to get the milking done first. On the rare days we go to town, we have to hurry home. If we go visit a neighbor, we have to do it before milking and hurry home, or after milking, which means I’m too tired to be decent company. (I will not repeat the Head Honcho’s response to that!)

The first day I don’t milk, I’m going to sleep in...OK, probably not. And I suspect I’ll go down and pet Bugs and tell her it will be OK and she’ll feel better in just a few days. And I’ll groom and pet the calves and give them a little extra feed, and tell them they’ll feel better in a few days. And in a few days, I might even sleep in.