Daisy

Yesterday Allison from Red Door Coop arrived in the afternoon. She is here for a week on a farmy farm stay. I had had a busy day, getting ready for Alison, editing the latest format of The Letters,  Queenie and her Flerd were in Pats Paddock, Mama and her girls were in the middle field and Daisy was in the rat house paddock where all the new clover was growing.  The Pigs lay in the mud enjoying the warm sun and Timatanga sat sulking under her little apple tree.

When we arrived home, after showing Allison to her room, TonTon and I went out to bring Daisy in for the milking – I usually bring her in early so she can settle down.

When I opened the gate I noticed that there was blood on the ground.Red blood.  It is funny how when you see something dreadful your thought processes (or at last My thought processes) slow down and a slow motion series of these thoughts travel through your head. They are totally clear thoughts  but there is a grappling in your brain as you try to make sense of what you are seeing.

As she walked past me I noticed that one of her teats was dripping milk, then I realised that the milk was mixed with blood then I realised that her teat was hanging at an odd angle. Once she arrived at the barn, I brought her a bucket with oats and got down under her to look at her udder, she had scraped the skin right off the bottom of her udder and the one teat had a great gash into it. Sliced right through.  Gaping. Mama and I looked at each other and sighed. Trouble.  She had tried to jump the fence, betcha, Mama said from her supine position. Hmm – mm,  seen her do that more than once. Stupid cow. The milk and blood continued to flow and chills ran down my spine.

I called my two vets and it was decided that the vet who was closest would come out to see to her. Not my Lady Vet, TonTons vet.   I brought Daisy into the milking parlour, loaded her feeder up, jammed her in tightly with the milking gate and shacked her foot. She is used to that foot being shackled, as that is the side she kicks me with, so just wrapping the chain around her foot immobilises that side.  This was a bonus for what was to come. Allison changed into her boots and jeans and swung into action – with me calling instructions from the milking parlour she fed the chicks and the pigs like a pro -allowing me to stay with Daisy and keep her calm. We watched the road out of the corners of our eyes and waited. Finally the vet arrived in his red truck.  At that point he was the best thing I had ever seen.  He came in, knelt down and had a look at the teat and at the puddle of blood and milk below her.  A grim cast washing across his face. And so we got to work.

She was sedated slightly – just enough to  take the edge off. Then the area in her udder was given a local. The vet took the smallest catheter he had and very carefully slid it up the milk duct to hold it open and resist swelling and tissue closing the milk duct down. Within seconds the milk and no blood began to flow down the tube. This was good news.  It seemed that she may have tried to jump the fence and failing, slid back off the fence, ripping the teat almost off but just nicking the interior milk channel. You will remember that as a young cow she used to routinely jump electric fences.

As I held the torch, he very carefully stitched the teat back together. I don’t know how any stitches, maybe 15 or so, but slowly the wound was closed.  Methodically as the sunset deepened he stitched. We talked about all kinds of things as we worked, why the finest sutures were transparent, why not glow in the dark, or blue – children,  friends, his work, my work, he likened The Fellowship to his class at vet school, exchanging information and learning all the time,  how learning from each other is better than competing with each other for who knows best. How he should go and see the new Planet of the Apes movie – monkeys on horseback with machine guns -I told him, what more do you want,  how hard it was to find young vets for rural practices. How fat my vegetarian pigs were.  How he tries to find a good moment every day because sometimes his job is too sad and too busy. We talked about Mama and how he will come today and give her, her own appointment. Not hurry her.

Daisy listened to our voices as we calmly worked, her eyes blinking from the sedative.

It is possible that the teat will heal. Maybe we will lose that quarter. But we have agreed that as soon as she is well enough we will dry her back up. He said that Daisy will almost definitely have mastitis in that quarter now, if we can save it at all. So we have also agreed that the best thing for the cow, next year, would be two calves and the odd milking for the house.

John arrived home and took Allison around the gardens. While the vet and I worked in the barn, they picked basil for pesto, and greens for a big salad. They cooked the pasta and a few beans and grated the parmesan.

The catheter was left in Daisy’s teat to keep draining the milk, the vet finally got to go home for his dinner, (we will see him again today)  and I milked the other three quarters. Daisy’s legs began to dip and buckle as I finished, her joints going fluid, she was listing over to her side.  Wake up Daisy, I was calling, let me finish, her hoof tipping like a horses, her eyes were closing as she gently drooped her way to her clean room. I then fed the milk to the pigs and Aunty Del,  and came up for dinner.

Today will be another fiercely emotional day.

I hope you have a loud and lively day too.

your friend on the farmy

celi