My Name Is Sam

My name is Sam, hello!

Sometimes, life on the farm, includes losing a life too, while bringing new ones into the world. It's sad, but nature must have her way from time to time. There seems to be a lesson in this I'm sure, although at times the lesson seems to be just out of reach...

During the time of year that the cattle are having their calves, it's usually cold and uncomfortable for us, the humans that believe we are taking care of them. Safe and warm in our homes, with the fires burning for warmth, we can't fully understand how animals can stand the cold nights. We try hard, by giving them the food to burn as fuel, in the same way we burn wood or use electricity to keep them warm. They have their own furnace, but it must be maintained by food, much the same as ours is maintained by stoking the fire, and covering ourselves with blankets and fleece, they must have fuel for energy to build warmth.

Sometimes, without rhyme or reason, an animal doesn't make it through the night. This time, when the mother died giving birth, she made sure her calf was born into the night before quietly taking her last breath. The calf was healthy and as black as the night she was born into. Her instincts for food kept her near her mother, until the farmer sadly picked her up and took her to the barn, leaving her mother, that she had yearned to know, forever. The calf had not even had the chance to suckle the first, and much needed mother's milk. The little infant calf was frightened to begin with, being left so suddenly into the cold night and the ground that was hard and cold too, from the warm safe place it had been snuggled in for nine months. The mother's body no longer warm as the calf tries to nuzzle against it for warmth and comfort.

Calfs, much like babies, are instinctivly drawn closer to their mothers, searching for the warmth and love they are born to need. Being taken from a mother is an experience for the calf that is frightening, even more than a baby's would be. A calf comes into the world only knowing it's mother, with an innate sense of belonging, to that one cow. The field it was born in, can be filled with other cows and calves, but only one mother. It's mother is no longer near, and the calf has no other sense of belonging in the world, only fear. The other calves have their own mothers and those mother's are not interested in the newest addition to the herd, without it's mother. They ignore it and move their own calves further from the nuisance that has appeared among them.


Cows are a funny animal, it is rare that one would take to an orphan among them.
The group of mothers allow their calves to run and play together, even nap in the sunshine, cuddled close together not far from the grazing herd of mother cows. Should one of the calves get too close though, they are booted away by the cow as she herds her own child away for a quiet moment of nursing. The mother moves her calf away from the other playful children among them, in order for her calf to nurse and be sure that he is nourished. When school is done, she allows him to go off to play and nibble at the grass like the adults and older children, to chase a butterfly or just jump in the air for joy. When the calf gets too far away for the mother's comfort, she calls to him and he runs to mother, as she nuzzles him close to her side, as if talking to him, telling him not to go so far away, there could be danger over the hillside.


The little black calf tonight, will be fed from a bottle, by the hands of the farmer. The calf knows that this is not her mother, the smell is wrong and sends the calf into frightened bawling, calling for it's mother, with no answer, and backing into the corner of the pen, desperately searching for saftey. When there is no where else to go, the calf tries to climb the wooden fence, it's slippery hooves splaying outward and sending her falling to the ground. Almost spent of energy, the calf heaves with every breath, but can't give up it's struggle for freedom. Her eyes are wide with fright and she backs up until her body hits the wall of the pen, sending more waves of fright through her. Finally, she is held tight by the human, as he tries to get the calf to take the bottle of warm milk, while the calf turns her head away from this foriegn object and grits her teeth together with a fierceness that seems impossible for such a newly born animal.

As the warm milk trickles around her mouth and a little tiny bit is tasted, her eyes seem to take on a look of wonderment. She is not through with her fight though, and tries again to take flight, little legs scrambling on the hay to get a foothold. She is held tightly and finally, the nipple is in her mouth. She stops fighting as the farmer squeezes the milk into her mouth, slowly letting her recieve the warmth of the milk, trickling down to warm her tummy. Her strong little body relaxes as she begins to nurse, and leans against the leg of the farmer, as she would her mother. The farmer rubs her in the same way her mother would have licked her, letting her know she didn't need to fear anymore. Her eyes are still wide with fear, but her need for nourishment is greater, and she continues to nurse.

Finishing the entire bottle and reaching for more, she is no longer frightened of this human in the pen with her. She follows and nuzzles his leg, searching for milk, as he pulls down the straw for her to sleep in. As the farmer stands outside of the pen and watches, the calf lies down in the fresh straw and sleeps. The calf is spent, with no more energy for escape, not even enough to miss her mother, she sleeps, dreaming I'm sure, of the other warm and safe place she arrived from, only a few hours before.

For the next few months this little girl was fed a bottle throughout the day and night, learning to depend on and look forward to the human that had taken the place of her mother. Sadly, she peers through the fence at the other calves as they follow their mothers to the water each day. She instinctively wants to join them and be with the herd, playing with the other calves. One calf comes to her fence and puts his head close to hers, as if asking her to come and play. Soon, it follows the others and is gone from her sight again. She stretches her head as high as she can, to watch them until they are out of sight. Soon, she lies down and puts her head in the straw...was that a tear slowly building in those soft brown eyes?

I think so...sadly knowing she wouldn't survive if she went to play, but still...