Life and Death on the Farm

Sometimes living this close to Nature has its draw-backs. While we get to be first hand witnesses of Mother Nature in her bounty - the birth and renewal of the land each spring, and the new generation of babies, be they calves, colts, puppies or kittens - we are also on hand at the other end of life when things are not so sweet and wonderful. I think it gives us balance, and makes us a more thoughtful people.

Friday afternoon our neighbour phoned me at work to say we had a cow in trouble out on the pasture. They had driven past and at first thought she was already dead, but then had seen her move and had gone in to see what could be done. The problem was a labour gone wrong, a calf half born and dead, and the mother not far behind. He had been unequipped to help her and had tried to find Glen to tell him of the problem, but there was no one around.

I knew where Glen was - running CAT building an oil lease a dozen miles away - but with no cell phone reception there was no way to ask him what he wanted done. We've talked about lots of other scenarios that might come up, but never this one. What was the right thing to do?

As work was really slow, I was able to drive out to where Glen was working, thinking he could probably spare the hour that was needed to do what ever was needed, but when I got there the big trucks were just starting to roll in. They were about to tow an oil rig in through the mud and would need all four CATs to accomplish to job. He couldn't leave. His advice was, if she was that far gone, put her out of her misery. "Go home and shoot her" he said.

I grew up on a farm but never had any interest in guns. Dad had one, of course, to use against skunks trying to set up house under his grain bins, or raccoons destroying Mom's garden, and for times like this when an animal needed to be put down, but I had never had anything to do with it. I couldn't spare any more time off work so I went back to town and hoped that she was already gone. Having the vet come out to take a look at her was going to cost more than she was worth. With what BSE has done to cattle prices, a guy just can't afford a vet call unless he's sure that the animal can be saved and go on to be profitable. The neighbour's evaluation hadn't even hinted at that being the case.

I came straight home from work and went directly to the pasture to see what I could see. My heart sunk when I saw she was still moving - poor girl! The boys went up to assess the situation and soon it was all over. Glen had spent the rest of the day trying to figure out which cow it was. I hadn't thought we had anybody up there that hadn't already had her calf, but he said there was one. As far as he was concerned though, she was a long way from being ready and should have been big enough not to have any problems. As it turned out, it was a young heifer who we didn't even know was pregnant. Glen went up last night to bury the dead one and take a good long look at the rest to see if there were any other surprises to watch for. He thinks we're safe with the rest, but he'll keep an eye on them anyway.

It's never easy when something dies. You try to take care of your animals as best you can, but sometimes "taking care of them" means taking care that they don't suffer.