Steiffie, the Christmas miracle calf

Not many readers of DavidsonNews.net can boast of a Christmas calf in their household. Even more unusual is one who can pen an essay for Around Davidson.

What follows is the heartwarming story of a young calf, found cold and near death in rural Davidson, who recovered to become a Christmas miracle.  We couldn’t resist sharing his story with our readers as a special way to wish them all a very merry holiday.

THE CHRISTMAS CALF

No one ever said farm life was easy and I can attest to that.

I was born on Oct. 8. My mother is a big friendly beef cow who has raised many calves on our farm. “Farmer B.” takes good care of all the cows and checked the pasture to make sure I was all right soon after my birth.

A funny thing happened that confused my mother and Farmer B. I had a twin brother. Farmer B. worked hard for a week with my mother, me and my brother to make sure we all stayed together. I have white fur; my brother’s is black. Seems to me Farmer B. could have been creative and named us “Salt” and “Pepper” but instead he chose to give us each a plastic earring with a number. I became “5;” my brother “6.”

Life was good on the farm. I had other calves to play with and my brother was always close by. Then one day I had trouble keeping up with my mother. My legs wouldn’t work as well as they should. The rest of the cows and calves ignored me and soon my mother took my twin and moved to another pasture. I was cold, hungry and lonely. Farmer B. and his wife were out of town over the Halloween weekend and although people at the farmhouse knew I was having problems, no one knew what to do.

It took lots of work and massages before the stiffness in my limbs went away.

By the time Farmer B. and his wife returned home, I had almost given up. I could not move my legs or neck. They found me just in time and Farmer B. set to work. He and his wife put me in a wheelbarrow, headed for the house, and soon I was bedded down in a warm bathroom. They dried my wet coat and, forcing my mouth open, fed me some warm Carnation milk. How good that tasted!

After a long discussion with the farm veterinarian, it was determined that I had something called “tetanus.” Yes, tetanus. It is always in the soil and had gotten into my body through a small wound. This is the disease people used to call “lockjaw.” And indeed my jaw was locked at first, making eating mighty hard. In addition to my jaw, the stiffness over all my body prompted Farmer B.’s wife to name me “Steif” (which is German for stiff). How appropriate!

Farmer B. had never treated a calf with tetanus but he got lots of medicine and I got lots of shots. I also started a new diet of powdered milk replacer, which Farmer B.’s wife warmed for me two or three times a day. She would not let me drink too much because I could not even sit up. I wanted to get on my feet so badly but could not even turn my neck. Farmer B. talked to other veterinarians who commented that they had never seen a large animal recover from tetanus. Could I prove them wrong?

A pile of leaves kept me warm and comfortable while the big yellow dog kept watch.

Farmer B. and his wife thought the sunshine and warm breezes of early November  might help me. Since I weighed well over 100 pounds and was too heavy to carry, they fashioned a wheelchair for me using an old garden cart. Getting me through the bathroom door when my legs would not bend was pretty silly. Farmer B. pushed the wheelchair and Farmer B.’s wife held me upside down so my legs would pass the doorway. Soon my head, neck and front legs seemed a little less stiff so Farmer B. let me spend nights outside in a BIG leaf pile with the family’s BIG yellow dog to look after me. Daytimes I was propped in a hammock so I could practice my balance. It was so hard. Even turning my head made me fall over!

When the weatherman forecast five days of rain, I had to leave my cozy leaf pile. It was a bumpy ride in my wheelchair from Farmer B.’s house to the barn but soon I had my own “apartment” there in a warm, dry area. Farmer B. fixed a bed of fresh hay for me and if the nights were cold, he covered me with an old quilt.

I got really tired of my special sling.

Morning, noon and night, Farmer B. and his wife came to feed me, massage my legs, walk me (always at my side in case I began to fall), give me my shots and position me in a sling for 10 hours a day. The sling allowed me to turn around and also to try putting weight on all four legs. It was hard work and at times Farmer B. and his wife looked mighty discouraged. Then one day, Farmer B.’s wife noticed that my tail had lost it stiffness. It was almost normal. That was a real milestone. Now if only my back legs would bend and allow me to walk.

At night in the barn, I enjoyed the company of raccoons but no coyotes, thank heavens. Daytimes I enjoyed the company of Farmer B.’s wife who would arrive first and bring me lunch She would give me free time out of my sling and read holiday recipes aloud to me until Farmer B. arrived to help put me back in my sling. I liked the sound of her voice and especially the sound of “Braised Brussels Sprouts” for Thanksgiving. Maybe adding vegetables to my diet would help me recover. I was eating a little hay.  Perhaps that counts. She told me that I would have company over Thanksgiving when the children would be home and could help with my feeding and exercise routine. That sounded like fun.

I didn’t get any brussel sprouts for Thanksgiving but I did get even more love and attention. The children carried me from the barn to the front yard and had a picnic with me. (How I love to eat!) They brushed me and rubbed me all over. The big yellow dog was very jealous.

The second morning the children were home, they ran to the barn to feed me breakfast and could not find me. They called and called “Steif” but I was hiding at the far end of the barn. For the first time in almost four weeks, I had managed to get on my feet by myself. When they finally saw me, there were whoops of joy all around. To celebrate, Farmer B.’s younger daughter sewed me my own winter blanket from Old Navy fleece in case I got cold at night. It is fun being pampered. The children also made sure I had a special water bucket and feed bucket for my new “calf startena” sweet feed to supplement my milk and hay. Life is good!

The week after Thanksgiving, the last bit of stiffness left my body and Farmer B. let me have supervised visits with the rest of the cows and calves. What fun to run and jump in a big pasture with the other calves after all those days confined in my small “apartment.”  My twin brother, #6, was happy to see me but my mother does not remember me. That makes me sad but Farmer B.’s older daughter is a veterinarian who will work with my mother over Christmas to try to make her remember that she does have two “babies.”

It would be very nice to be part of the cow herd once more, but I will never forget the special weeks I was able to spend with Farmer B. and his wife and family. They are the reason for my miraculous recovery. Although they still call me Steif, I prefer to be called “The Christmas Calf.”

I'm feeling much better now and I love my special feed, especially when my favorite neighbor offers it.

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Have news for Brenda? Write to her at hbarger@bellsouth.net.