Today was one of those days when I seriously wonder why we don’t sell the farm and go live in the ‘burbs like normal folk. But, now the day is over and I remember. We live here for the deep abiding sense of peace.
It happened like this: my favorite cow, sweet Mama, delivered a big healthy bull calf. It’s head was quite large so I had to help her a bit. She didn’t deliver her afterbirth that night. The next morning, it was still there. This morning, same story and it was starting to look way too much like a side of rare beef. So, I called for advice. First, Ellen. I sent her some pictures and she agreed, it didn’t look good. She recommended several vets–Mayo, High Springs, nobody nearby. The state of the nation in regards to large animal vets is a whole other story.
So, next I called Walker of Sweet Lil Wee Farms. He confirmed that it looked like a prolapsed uterus. He told me to buy several tubes of preparation H and get her to the squeeze chute. My neighbors, the Meltons, helped me get everything set up. Walker and Lisa, working as an efficient team, got her uterus back where it belonged and the afterbirth out.
After doing the afternoon chores, I went out to check on her. It was just getting to dusk. She was covered by these absolutely horrid swarms of blood-sucking yellow cow flies and HUGE horse flies. I swatted about 20 of them until my hands were covered in blood and they still kept coming. It was driving her nuts. I ran for the OFF and diatomaceous earth hoping to at least keep them at bay.
So, are you wondering yet where the peace is in all of this?
When I returned, the dragonflies (or angelflies–as I think of them) were busy flitting all about her. They were huge and they quietly and efficiently picked off those awful flies. It was the most beatiful sight. As I watched, I thought about the wonderful friends we have–without whom we simply couldn’t keep going–and all the blessing that are there in even the most awful of days. I felt peace.