Monday, June 12, 2017
I call them "The Girls." All eight of them and the one calf born a week ago live out there in the green grass across the lane from the house. While I am no expert on cows, living, working, and watching them for the past seven years has taught me a thing or two. So, when I saw the one I call Old Red pacing the fence line yesterday morning, I figured it was time for her to have her calf. She was due and I had been watching. At one point in the morning, she was laying down to rest and a couple of turkey buzzards came and started pestering her. She was off by herself as about to deliver cows do, but being watched by the other girls. One bellowed, charged, the others followed and drove away the unwanted turkey buzzards. And then four of them formed a picket line circle around her as if to stand guard.
We had to leave the farm in the early afternoon but she gave birth to her calf anyway. I asked my wife's uncle and aunt to check on her and they arrived just in time to witness the dropping of the calf. It was as exciting for them as it is always for me. They reported what I knew would happen. After the birth there was a trumpeting of cows mooing and bellowing and everyone of the girls went down to smell and give a welcome to the pasture. Those girls would become the community for the new calf. It belonged in the pasture and belonged in that place. I regretted not being around for the loud moment of welcome. It really is exciting to see. I have learned a lot from the girls these years of working and watching them.
Oh, that every child born into this world of ours could be born into such a community....