Double-dipping

Our beloved Jersey cow Matilda, who passed away February 10, absolutely loved calves. She would nurse any and every calf who wanted milk. As a result, we called her our Universal Donor.

Yesterday I caught Amy, Matilda's adult daughter, engaging in the same practice. Double-dipping, anyone?

One calf is hers, and the other is little Ferdinand.

As far as I'm concerned, having a Universal Donor is an excellent thing on a farm ... plus it's a testimony to Matilda's gentle, generous nature -- something she clearly passed on to her daughter.

Valentine's Day snowstorm

For the last few days, we've had cold, clear, sunny weather.

When we took Mr. Darcy for his walks, he could chase sticks and romp around on bare, snow-free ground.

But all that was about to change, in a big way. We had weather moving in.

We're pretty much perpetually battened down this time of year, of course, though we did lay in a bit more firewood for the occasion.

The biggest advantage during snow dumps like this is -- we don't have to go anywhere. We just stay home. What a blessing.

It was fascinating, yesterday afternoon, to watch the clear blue sky gradually get blotted out by incoming clouds.

Below the high cirrus clouds, everything was thickening up on the horizon.

Even the sunset managed to look vaguely ominous, if picturesque.

When we woke up this morning, Valentine's Day, the world was transformed. Here are some before and after photos.

Before:

After:

Before:

After:

Before:

After:

The new calves, Hickory and Ferdinand, don't mind the snow at all.

(It helps they have a nice cozy barn to curl up in.)

We're keeping a sharp eye on the other cows with regards to calving. I believe Polly is next -- it looks like she's starting to bag up -- and since we're expecting about a week of nasty, unsettled weather, I'll pull her into the barn at the first sign. At least with Jerseys, it's easy to predict imminent birth a few days in advance.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Meet Ferdinand the Bull

Yesterday morning when I went to do morning chores, I saw Amy and Matilda standing in the corral with their ears pricked toward the woods. It didn't take a lot of deduction to discern what they heard. Victoria was having her calf. (Always pay attention to the body language of your livestock.)

I arrived literally seconds after the calf dropped to the ground.

It's hard to tell amidst the gooey mess, but that's a little scrotum. We have a bull calf.

As with little Hickory, this fella arrived in a window of very nice weather. Calm, not very cold (about 35F at the time), and some sunshine. We just got finished with a bout of rainy, windy weather, so I'm grateful Victoria held off until things were better.

I left her to deal with the baby. When I checked in half an hour later, she was just starting to pass the placenta.

And the calf was already nursing. Look how identical in color he is to his mama.

Don and I had decided in advance that if Victoria (a purebred Dexter) had a bull calf (which would also be purebred Dexter), we would keep him as a breeder. We've looked at the lineage of our animals and he can be bred to everyone but his mama, of course.

We checked in about an hour later, and Victoria had dropped the placenta and was starting to eat it (a revolting but instinctive practice).

We waited another 20 minutes but she was still trying to force it down her throat, so we decided to intervene. Don armed himself with a stout stick and watched my back as I picked up the calf and moved him out of the woods into the driveway. (At this time of year, the feedlot is too muddy for calves, so we're moving mamas and calves into the driveway, which is rocky and firm, plus they have access to the barn for food and shelter.)

Once out of the woods, Victoria and the baby immediately made themselves comfortable.

This morning the little guy is much firmer on his feet.

In fact, he's at the comical stage where he's steady enough to wobble and skip around, and Victoria -- mooing anxiously, udder swaying -- has to keep up with his gambols. It's quite funny to watch.

Meanwhile I'm noodling aronnd the name Ferdinand, after a favorite children's book "The Story of Ferdinand."