Spring Calving in the Snow

<"The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel." Proverbs 12:10 (NIV)

It was my turn to work a seven-day stretch at the line shack. It was spring calving time, so I expected to be fairly busy, but I didn't know jus' how busy I would be.

The second evening after checking on the momma cows and their calves, I put up my horse, fixed myself a cup of coffee and stood outside looking at the moon. The night was clear, however the lunar orb had a milky-white ring around it.

I knew immediately that meant bad weather and I decided to prepare for it.

It was about midnight when I pulled myself out of my sleeping bag to have a look outside. A gentle snow had started to fall and I knew then I had to get down to the calving-pens to care for the newborns.

By the time I dressed, had the horse saddled and trotted away from the shack, the snow was swirling and blowing and twisting, making my travel difficult. I'm sure that had I not known my way, I'd have gotten lost within minutes of the storms arrival.

Once there, I had to ride from cow to cow, checking on the calves. Generally my appearance caused the momma cow to spook and move away along with her baby.

However, in one case the momma cow jus' stood there bawling while her calf remained curled in a ball on the snowy ground. I had to get off my horse and approach the little thing carefully so as not to cause the mother cow to panic and run me down.

It took me a few minutes to get a good response from the calf. For a few seconds I thought the thing had frozen to death, but soon it started struggling to get up and get away from me.

Instead I hefted it up into the saddle with me, and with momma following behind, we made our way back to the line shack and the near-by horse stalls, where I laid out a straw bed for the little one to rest. Momma cow, though having never been indoors before, followed me inside and took over the care of her baby.

I was busy until around 10 in the morning.

Soon after I returned to the shack for a cup of coffee, some bacon and a biscuit, the snow stopped falling and the sun broke free of the clouds. By the afternoon, with the help of the warm breath of a Chinook, much of the white stuff disappeared.

And though I was wet, cold, dirty and sore, and one momma cow had prolapsed and needed to be buckled, I didn't lose any of the cows or calves in my care. I recall being tired, but happy for having done a good days work and it was a good feeling.