As any livestock owner knows, and dreads, the term “Dead (animal). It’s the term that makes your heart sink straight into the pit of your bowels. Those of you with animals know exactly what I’m talking about.
Now, “Dead Cow” is one we dealt with the most while we were in Colorado. We had more cows than any other animal at one time.
It’s that moment when you look out the window at your stock and one cow is just lying there, head thrown back, legs straight out, and you just can’t tell if that sucker is breathing.
Or you get the dreaded phone call from the neighbor driving by who says, “I think you have a dead cow in your pasture.”
Dead cow gets sung out to the household, sometimes it just one person who goes out, sometimes its everyone putting on shoes and goes for a walk out to said animal.
As you venture forth, you are muttering under your breath “please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”
By now, all the other cows are looking at you like “what? what’s going on, whatcha doing out here.”
Some are moving away from you, and some are coming closer cus they are curious about it all and are wondering if they will get treats.
Please don’t be dead please don’t be dead.
HEY COW, ARE YOU ALIVE? COW, GET UP, COW MOVE
Word of caution here. Be careful with your approach. Coming at the head can get you run over as they move remarkably fast when they want to kill you. I would also caution at approaching from the feet lest you get kicked in the shin. Nudging them with your toe at the back top of the tail is fairly safe…maybe.
The presumed “Dead Cow” will wake up and look at you accusingly for waking them up from a really great sleep, probably dreaming of vast fields of green grass as far as the eye can see with no fences to keep them in.
They are not amused at you for this. Seriously, they look at you like they could get up and happily stomp a mud hole in you.
Of course, this is not limited to cows, I’ve had horses do it to me, sheep have done it to me, dogs have done it to me.
I usually swear at them when the wake up for scaring the crap out of me, making my heart fall down to my gut, and put me on the verge of tears, both out of frustration and sadness at the possible loss of a much-loved critter.
On occasion, we have had actual stock that passed away. Or stock that is in actual distress and needing help. So, I do pay attention to all the animals in case that is the real reason.
Miss Lucy, who I wrote about a few weeks ago, gave me the “Dead Sheep” just the other day.
Whenever I go in my kitchen or outside to do something benign, I always make it a habit to look for the animals. Where the bale feeder is this year, I can get a good looksee at most of the animals at one time.
It was a lovely Monday afternoon, the sun was shining, and the temp actually hit 50 degrees. All the critters were feeling good and basking in the sun with full bellies. Nick had his horse coat off and from the looks of him had several good rolls in the drier parts of the pasture.
All was right in their worlds.
It was warm enough for me to work in the studio and get the torn sheep coats fixed for the next round of changes. As I walked out, I gave the animals a looking over and everyone was good.
45 mins later when I came out of the studio, something didn’t look right at the edge of the bale feeder. A white blob was not in the correct place.
I got my boots on cus this warm up did create boot sucking mud in most places, and I walked out muttering “please don’t be dead please don’t be dead.”
As I got close, I could tell by the shape and color that it was Miss Lucy, laying on her side, legs stuck straight out.
Crap Please don’t be dead.
I walked around her to get a better vantage point to see if she was breathing.
She picked her head up and looked at me like “do ya mind giving me a hand here, I’m stuck.”
And she was. She evidently laid down for a nap and inadvertently rolled over into a depression in the mashed-up hay that was just enough to keep her trapped on her side.
It has an actual term, it’s called “cast”, and it can be deadly to the animal if they are not pushed back to their feet.
The combination of full fleece, full belly either from food or being pregnant, and rolling just the wrong way gets them in a position they cannot right themselves from.
One good push and a “shit Lucy you scared the crap out of me” got her back on her feet. She was a bit wobbly as she walked away, but she pee’d and pooped and I felt she would be ok.
She did follow me back towards the barn, and I snuck her some grain when nobody else was looking. She chowed down on that and had a big drink before wandering back off to the flock.
Flash forward one week and Lucy got herself in trouble again.
In the corral I have 3 feed troughs at right angles to the fence so the sheep can eat from both sides. The troughs are made from stainless steel and are quite slick (note to self…get stick on stair tread anti slip strips)
At some point during the night Lucy apparently felt that she needed to put herself in one. I suspect she put her front feet in to get some hay and her feet slid and took the rest of her in with them.
I go out to do chores in the morning and see a white lump in the trough. Once again, the dreaded dead sheep thought.
Nope, she gave me the help me please look.
I rush in and try to lift her out. Keep in mind she weighs about 150 pounds.
I can’t get her up, so I tried to tip over the trough which has welded itself into the mud and ice about 4” deep. Yeah, that’s not happening.
Luckily my son had not left town for work yet, so I called him, and he came back home.
Between the two of us we got her up and on her feet.
She leaned against my legs for about 5 mins before taking a walk. She looks like a drunken sailor staggering sideways away from us. But she was moving.
Poor old girl had tried so hard to get out she broke her back toenails.
Got hay pitched in for everyone and Lucy came over and started eating. A good sign!
I had to head to work so my son came home on his lunch break to check on her for me. He said she was laying down normally and chewing her cud.
When I got home, I saw she was limping but considering her position and broken toenails I was not surprised. I gave her some banamine and left her with the flock overnight.
She seemed a bit more uncomfortable this morning and we had a blizzard move in overnight, so we put her in the barn with the horses.
She is so spoiled!
She has warm molasses water to drink, a heat lamp keeping it liquid, all the hay she wants, got some grain and an apple this afternoon. Also, more banamine
She has really perked up even though she is still limping. A few days in the barn should have her better while the blizzard keeps snowing on us.
Oh, the joys of owning animals.
Blessed be!
The Dreaded Term "Dead (insert animal of choice here)
One of my favs! Glad she has the most amazing Mom!
This is not to sound callus, but as a non-livestock owner I would be terrified that this could be a weekly occurrence. But what do you do with the bodies? I have been owned by six 50–98-pound Airedales, and I let my vet handle their remains. But horses, cattle, sheep and goats I can't imagine how it hurts but how hard it is to deal with. Too heartbreaking, especially since they have been named and are part of the family.