Eye Spy

I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'B'...

(Remember Bay Lulic aka Bella? Original story here)

...

I spy with my little eye, a cow who saved a calf from starvation.

I spy with my little eye, a cow who took that orphan on as her own in an instant.

I spy with my little eye, a cow who is part of our family now.

I spy with my little eye, a cow who is one of the best mothers ever.

I spy with my little eye, a cow with only one working eye.

(A fact that never impeded her ability to care for her adopted 'son'.)

...

I spy with my little eye (a couple of weeks later)...

a cow with a new problem...

Something which makes life a whole lot harder for her...

I spy with my little eye...

Pinkeye.

A serious infection that has blinded our darling Bay Lulic.

Lots of antibiotics and TLC and eye cream later... she can see shapes again.

So the crashing into trees and fences has lessened a little...

And the need to walk her in each day from up the paddock so she can find the trough for a drink, is a little less urgent.

Oy, the DRAMA.

I wonder... you reckon the TV networks need inspiration for a soap opera cow?

Vignette #2: A Real Good Mother

We have had lots of highlights and a couple of lowlights with our calving this year.

We pride ourselves on breeding low-maintenance cattle and excellent mothering cows. But when something happens that leaves a calf unusually vulnerable, we humans try our best to nurture these poddies and replace the missing Mama cows with our own brand of TLC...

but sometimes it's just not enough.

...

Our latest drama has fallen into this category.

I haven't really been able to bring myself to blog it til now.

It's a little bit confronting, but I reckon the latest twist in the saga warrants a post.

A few days ago, while we were away, a calf was found badly injured in a paddock beside a road.

I felt sick when I heard the news And it was not just any calf but a gorgeous show-quality bull calf. This guy was not a baby (like this dude was) ... the injured calf was about ten weeks old and glossy and in very good condition. He also had a great calm nature and appeared very alert, despite his injuries being quite extensive.

...

Some great teamwork between my Dad, our wonderful off-sider Lila and our neigbours kept this little fella alive. They kept giving him water, erected a tarp to shield him from the worst of the sun and injected him with anti-inflammatories and antibiotics. He could not walk or stand at all, with suspected spinal or hip injuries. Depite the constant care and visits, no-one ever saw his mother near him. We knew which cow she was, but with no sign of her during the regular checks and drive-bys, we decided she thought he had died and abandoned him.

...

So on our return to Granite Glen, we slid him into a horse float and brought him home from the paddock for some intensive TLC. We treated him and got him to drink, but could not tempt him to eat hay or calf crumbles or grain. It was very disheartening. Despite his good condition and great temperament, he had to eat something to have a fighting chance.

...

Mr Incredible and Dad decided to bring his mother in this afternoon. We didn't know what good she would do - as much as we tried to encourage him, and as hard as he tried, his legs JUST wouldn't work. He buckled and fell at every attempt. And she seemed to have shown very little interest in him since his accident.

...

On walking off the truck, the cow bellowed and immediately (despite not calling for her at any time before) he answered. They called back and forth as we moved him gingerly into a yard from the horse float, sliding him down the tailgate. As we released her into the yard, he tried once more to stand...

But to no avail.

The cow marched around the yard, seeming to look for a way out.

Her udder was very full and probably uncomfortable and we thought about trying to milk her but decided to leave them both for the night to settle down.

We sighed heavily, put some hay in a feeder and checked her trough

before heading up to the house.

It had been a long, hot day at the yards for us all,

and we were all tired and (I have to admit) a little bit 'down'.

As we prepared to shower and get dinner ready,

Dad called out from the yards.

Mr Incredible went outside to see what was wrong.

And then he told me to grab the camera.

So I did.

And this is what I found...

This cow has literally reversed up to the paralysed calf ...

And patiently stood over him, allowing him to suckle from each teat...

And I would say that each night (three in total)

that he was out there in the paddock beside the road,

while no-one was looking or driving by...

That this is EXACTLY what she was doing,

to ensure her baby got the nutrition he needed.

Even if she couldn't understand why he wouldn't get up and follow her,

or stand and suckle like normal....

I swear that is a tear of joy and relief you see there...

...

This will no doubt be an ongoing story,

and you need to know it may not have a happy ending,

because sometimes it gets very, very real out here...

but I know this much is true:

whatever the ending is like,

it will be a story about

a REAL GOOD MOTHER.

The Beauty of our Bella (The Eye of the Beholder)

Something pretty special arrived here at Granite Glen this week. No, I am not referring to the calendars, which have mostly gone off in a cloud of dust to all sorts of amazing places. (More on that in a later post).
.

Something was delivered here in the last couple of days that is just so beautiful, I cannot even begin to share the blinding glory of it. Well, I could, I suppose. But there are some things that the camera struggles to fully capture and translate - some kinds of beauty that supercede mere pixels and hues. I know I won't even go close to being able to show this particular being in its honest embodiment of the divine.

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But I guess I should try ...

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Are you ready?

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You may need sunglasses.

.

And please put down any hot beverages you may be likely to spit.

.

I am warning you - this particular femme fatale is unlike

ANYTHING you have ever experienced.

.

Meet... Bella.

Bella is a cow.

Not one of our sleek black beauties busily breeding beef babies out in the paddock, though...

She is a dairy cow.

She is a dairy cow with one eye.

She is a dairy cow with one eye and a HUGE bag of milk.

A dairy cow with one eye, a huge bag of milk, and the kindest sweetest gentlest nature EVER.

I pretty much kiss this cow every time I check on her.

Her and her newest admirer.

The poddy.

This little guy who has struggled with his grip on life ever since his Mama died soon after he was born.

The dude who REFUSED to suck a bottle and gave me backache and heartache as I force-fed formula to him three times a day. Who leaned against me as he submitted to my efforts to keep him alive before flopping his head down dejectedly after each feeding effort... making me feel very much like doing the same!

.

Well, this same little rascal decided that maybe...

just maybe,

a teat ...

a real one...

might be...

something he could...

maybe ...

get into.

(See that tail flick? That's a barometer of milk flow and belly happiness.)

Let me tell you,

The Poddy thinks Bella is the most divine thing ever placed on this earth.

And he has the swollen belly and contented naps to testify his devotion.

And one eye missing or not...

I have to agree with him.

I can trust her with the Poddy and with his Little Handlers.

Her one eye radiates her beauty -

it is so gentle and kind and sweet and giving.

I just heart this cow.

Can you see the tiniest little glimpse of the beauty I am talking about?

Or do I sound like a raving loony?

And while you are mulling that one over,

What's the most beautiful thing YOU have seen today?

Reality bites. Or sucks. Or doesn't.

I really wanted this to be a happy-go-lucky, skippedy-do-dah, my-oh-my kind of post.

With all my heart, I wanted that.

Cause it's calving time round Granite Glen.

For the past few weeks, red and black baby calves

have been popping out into the big wide world...

All knobbly knees and amazed ears and unblinking eyes.

It's been terribly, terribly cute.

But lately, well the weather has turned hot and horrible.
And then this week... well, things went a wee bit terrible.

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Mr Incredible brought a calf home - a little black bull calf, whose aging Mama had died soon after giving birth to him. Here he is.

A orphan, or 'poddy calf'.

All cuteness and neediness.

The kind of neediness that is hard to keep up with.

He has pretty much refused to suck the bottle we make up for him four times a day. So four times a day we mix up his formula, head down to the yards and pretty much force feed the little devil. My back aches from leaning over him, holding his head against my thigh, his chin up with one hand and the bottle aloft in the other, wriggling it to send droplets into his mouth, which build up until he has to swallow. It's painstaking. And the little beggar is not trying very hard.

But he is still alive.
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AND THEN... my Dad brought home ANOTHER one. Another needy soul.

A lovely little red heifer calf - only a couple of days old (her little umbilical cord still not fallen off) who DESPERATELY wanted to suckle. We tried to get her to drink from the cow who seemed to be her mother, and she tried, but the cow would have none of it. Violet immediately adopted the sweet-faced long-lashed redhead, alotting Dash the little black bull calf.

Both calves have been brushed and cajoled and talked to endlessly.
Terribly cute.

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But within a few hours of arriving and initially drinking happily from the bottle, the heifer also stopped trying to suckle. She has gone downhill rapidly in the last 24 hours. She is panting like crazy and a bit staggery in the hind legs. We suspect pnuemonia - and have given both calves some antibiotics in case of infection. The bull calf seems to have rallied and even attempted to suckle a second cow brought in to try and help them. A little progress. Fingers crossed.
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Tonight, though, things seem grim for our little heifer.

She took no milk at all - despite me mixing all kinds of extras in to make it more palatable - and her eyes are dull. Her breathing is even harder. Violet is distraught as we try to prepare her for what might eventuate. I have no pictures of the heifer - I cannot bring myself to take them at the moment. I am saying a little prayer, but am bracing myself for what we might find tomorrow morning... but I can't leave you like that, can I? In a morass of 'keepin' it real'.

So I won't.
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THIS is what calves OUGHT to enjoy as a matter of course in their busy little lives

- shady rest with Mum under a big bluegum tree.

And milkbars at the ready.
Where the worst thing that happens during the day...

is that some madwoman

rudely interrupts...

while you are mid-suckle...

on the vanilla special of the day.

Getting happy and fat and frothy and frolicky on the good stuff...

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I am wishing a little of this for our poddies tonight...

Too much to ask for an early Christmas miracle?

Weather Watch - and the Harsh Truth about my Water

It's weather watch time (I do remember my own weekly segment occasionally) but I am spicing it up a little today.
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And when I say 'spicing it up a little' I mean cinnamon.

Or nutmeg.

Not quite sure.

What do you think?
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It's my water here at Granite Glen. Not my drinking water - that would be gross. Our drinking water falls from the sky, onto our roof, down our guttering, and (all things being un-holey) into our rainwater tanks.

Not to be confused with our river water tanks.

As you can see from the spill stains from our high tank, bit of sediment comes with the water pumped from underneath the river bed.

And when I say 'a bit' I mean 'a truckload'.

It's hell on whites.

It's hell on white fences, white clothes and cream walls.

I swear this house is going to be repainted orange one day.

(MUM, I am kidding! Kinda. More terracotta really.)

From a photography perspective, of course, the reflections in dark water are great.

Dancing on black water!

And the kids don't care at all... especially doing their 'hose tricks'.

This is 'rabbit ears'.

'Ice-cream cone'.

And 'sprinkler shower'.

...

To my relief the pool is no longer black or even orange.

We have FINALLY got the water clear with much chlorine and creepy-crawly action.

But you know, it's so hot at the moment, I wouldn't care if the water was purple.

THIS is what I am going to be wanting to do pretty much all day today.

OFFICIAL FORECAST

Maximum expected 38 degrees Celcius.

Hot winds.

Less than 5% chance of less than 5mm of rain.

Yuck.

...

You?