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A Family Adventure
Despite the fact that I am not an animal lover, it seems my life is forever intertwined with them. Here is something I wrote a number of years ago about one colorful animal adventure:
It was a nice day and we decided to take a family walk down our dirt lane. The lane runs beside a 30 acre tract of land where a local farmer keeps his cows. We were walking beside the cattle field when we noticed a cow on the verge of giving birth. She was standing up and we watched as the delivery took place. Like a sack of potatoes, the calf came out and plopped to the ground. After that, the mother walked away as if nothing had happened and just left it there. Normally, the mother cow cleans the calf off and then gently urges it to stand up, but this one didn't. Left where it was, on the ground and still in the birth sac, the calf would soon die.
My wife, knowledgeable in animal birth from our own experiences with goats, saw the calf was in danger right away. On the other hand, I was standing there dumb and happy, totally oblivious when she startled me with, "We've got to get it out of the sac!"
From the panic in her voice I knew something was wrong and I listened as she quickly explained the danger. She wanted to go out into the field, but there were a few obstacles in our path and, as often seems to be the case in times of animal emergencies, the job fell on me.
I climbed the cattle fence, crawled through the barbed wire fence and gently stepped through the underbrush and briars until finally making it to the fallen calf. The fact that I was wearing shorts and was barefooted made it just a tad difficult (and painful). After finally getting there, she yelled instructions to me from the fence line.
First, I had to break the sac open and clean around its mouth and nose. I swept my fingers inside of the mouth to clean out anything that might be blocking the airway. I won't go into detail other than to say it was slimy and disgusting. After that, the calf still was not breathing.
Next, I picked it up by the legs and swung it back and forth, trying to clear out its lungs and force it to start breathing. That didn't work either.
Finally, my wife yelled out, "You have to give it mouth to mouth!"
To which I responded, "What??!!"
"You have to get some air into its lungs!"
It was at this point that I regretted suggesting a walk down the lane. I really had no desire to put my mouth on the mouth of a calf that still had fresh afterbirth all over it.
I yelled back, "And how am I supposed to do that?"
"Cup your hands together, put them over its nose and blow."
That didn't sound quite so disgusting, but it still wasn't something that I wanted to do. Hesitantly, and with increasing anxiety, I got on my knees and took the calf's wet head into my lap. Then, I cupped my hands, placed them into position and started blowing. To my great
surprise, it worked and it wasn't long before the calf was breathing and moving around. About this time the mother strolled over as if to say, "Thanks for doing the dirty work, but I'll take it from here." I backed away and she started taking care of her baby.
I tip-toed back through the briars, crawled through the barbed wire fence and over the cattle fence to my excited family where I received a hero's welcome (just call me Mouth to Mouth Calf Resuscitation Man).
After basking in my fifteen minutes of fame, however, I went home, brushed my teeth for about ten minutes and took a long, hot shower.
Last edited: Mon Jun 03, 2019 11:46 pm
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Great story! I am impressed!
Hey Guys This Is Peter