My prediction of the TB test kick-starting calving proved correct and by the time the initial due date for calving of 28 February came about, 28% of the herd had calved. Progress has been steady, but every year during calving time there’s a day when you have no concept of time.
Last Friday was that day. Tuning into the cameras that morning, there were two heifers licking calves and a third with legs sticking out behind. A good start before setting foot in the yard. In this instance, however, a good start wasn’t half the battle.
In relaxed mood, I walked in to discover an Angus calf, all alone. She was put there with her mother the evening before. Needless to say, the mood wasn’t as relaxed anymore.
While doing a check on the sheds Wednesday evening, I copped an Angus cow taking a liking to another cow’s calf and was following the pair around.
Reaching the shed on Thursday morning, she was now licking the other cow’s calf, but had calved herself and displayed no interest in her own calf.
The pair were isolated in a pen and while she let her calf suck, she spent the day staring and roaring at the other calf.
That evening I moved them to the shed where the heifers were. Put into a pen on their own with the other calf well out of sight, she could now concentrate on her own calf.
This was a third calver, so sense would surely prevail. It didn’t. The roaring continued through the night.
Returning to Friday morning, I eventually tracked her to the feed passage of the main shed, bellowing into the other calf.
Calving cameras were focused on the heifers, so I didn’t know if she jumped out or what.
Calving has been progressing well on Tommy Moyles' farm at Ardfield, Clonakilty, Co Cork.
Roller doors were no obstacle to a determined Angus. She polished off a bag of ration I was using to plámás the heifers en route too.
Fortunately, I got her back to her calf with little difficulty and could focus on the heifers again.
While all this was going on, there was little progress with the heifer who was calving, so I got the ropes and assisted.
I put her in a pen alongside the Angus and once the calf’s head was out, she managed herself.
In all the commotion another heifer began the calving process and with the latest arrival being licked by its mother, I figured it was a good time to go in for the breakfast and, checking progress on the phone, I saw all was going well with the fourth heifer.
Swivelling the camera around there was my Angus cow halfway out through the head stall. The porridge was abandoned and I dashed back to the shed.
The breacher of the peace had got out, but I managed to keep her in the building and return her to her calf. With her escape method revealed, I blocked it off and returned home.
About 20 minutes later, I saw the heifer calving with a calf dangling behind her, so I went back got the rope again. A gentle pull got the calf out and the heifer started nuzzling and licking it.
Delighted with the progress, I dropped the ropes back to the sink in the dairy and came back for a look before moving to the next job, only to discover this heifer had a prolapse.
A vet call was required and fortunately everything was sorted out, but with the coming and goings it was 3pm before I got to the other yard.
My prediction of the TB test kick-starting calving proved correct and by the time the initial due date for calving of 28 February came about, 28% of the herd had calved. Progress has been steady, but every year during calving time there’s a day when you have no concept of time.
Last Friday was that day. Tuning into the cameras that morning, there were two heifers licking calves and a third with legs sticking out behind. A good start before setting foot in the yard. In this instance, however, a good start wasn’t half the battle.
In relaxed mood, I walked in to discover an Angus calf, all alone. She was put there with her mother the evening before. Needless to say, the mood wasn’t as relaxed anymore.
While doing a check on the sheds Wednesday evening, I copped an Angus cow taking a liking to another cow’s calf and was following the pair around.
Reaching the shed on Thursday morning, she was now licking the other cow’s calf, but had calved herself and displayed no interest in her own calf.
The pair were isolated in a pen and while she let her calf suck, she spent the day staring and roaring at the other calf.
That evening I moved them to the shed where the heifers were. Put into a pen on their own with the other calf well out of sight, she could now concentrate on her own calf.
This was a third calver, so sense would surely prevail. It didn’t. The roaring continued through the night.
Returning to Friday morning, I eventually tracked her to the feed passage of the main shed, bellowing into the other calf.
Calving cameras were focused on the heifers, so I didn’t know if she jumped out or what.
Calving has been progressing well on Tommy Moyles' farm at Ardfield, Clonakilty, Co Cork.
Roller doors were no obstacle to a determined Angus. She polished off a bag of ration I was using to plámás the heifers en route too.
Fortunately, I got her back to her calf with little difficulty and could focus on the heifers again.
While all this was going on, there was little progress with the heifer who was calving, so I got the ropes and assisted.
I put her in a pen alongside the Angus and once the calf’s head was out, she managed herself.
In all the commotion another heifer began the calving process and with the latest arrival being licked by its mother, I figured it was a good time to go in for the breakfast and, checking progress on the phone, I saw all was going well with the fourth heifer.
Swivelling the camera around there was my Angus cow halfway out through the head stall. The porridge was abandoned and I dashed back to the shed.
The breacher of the peace had got out, but I managed to keep her in the building and return her to her calf. With her escape method revealed, I blocked it off and returned home.
About 20 minutes later, I saw the heifer calving with a calf dangling behind her, so I went back got the rope again. A gentle pull got the calf out and the heifer started nuzzling and licking it.
Delighted with the progress, I dropped the ropes back to the sink in the dairy and came back for a look before moving to the next job, only to discover this heifer had a prolapse.
A vet call was required and fortunately everything was sorted out, but with the coming and goings it was 3pm before I got to the other yard.
SHARING OPTIONS