New life in the neighborhood

Well, I promised to advise when one of the pregnant “big girls” next store gave birth, and she did!

It was on Wednesday, the third of February’s afternoon at about four o’clock, preceded by a good luck head butt:

[The all-brown faced is the mother of the moment]

She then slowly left her friends and walked alone to a section of barbed wire fence, laid down on her side and without a whimper, wail or sound produced an infant son.

I felt privileged to have witnessed it.

When this happened her two field mates returned. The one with the partial white face physically used her head and gave the new-born a gentle push; the little one took the minor jolt well and started to make visible  movements.

Maybe that was nature’s way of telling the little bull, “Welcome to your new world”.

[It would have been unseemly at best for me to have walked over there and stuck my camera in his and her face. I know some would say it was only a cow, but that’s not how I looked at it. She deserved respect with her buddies at her side.]

In the intervening couple of weeks he hasn’t roamed far from his roving nourishment. Mother and son – who you can see has a prominent white tail – are always a pair including at night when they bed down close to the house. That is especially good since the coyotes would like nothing better than a meal of wandering young beef. I have anointed myself – with Ernie’s help – protector-in-chiefs, looking in that direction whenever I can to see if they are in any danger of predators.

I have been told, though, by all accounts of experienced human hands that mother cow is not to be messed with during this time in her life; she will defend against all prey.

Since this event I have been in a rather pensive mood. The simplicity of nature is wondrous. There was no mid-wife, obstetrician or attending physicians, nurses, machines, tubes, at the ready. Yes, the neighbor’s son did come and take a quick look during the birthing to assure that no complications were evident; but assured there were none, he left.

And mother cow could have had the calf in complete isolation were there driving rain, wind and frigid temperatures.

As it turned out the first week of life for the little one was cold: nighttime temperatures were in the thirties. No one ran over and gave ’em as much as a wooly blanket, which is something only a suburb kid would think to mention.

At close to three weeks of youth – in between frequent naps and tugs of milk – he has started bounding around. That is pure, spontaneous joy.

Were the human condition so simple, innocent.