Destiny’s Destiny

“This is disgusting! Ray, come quick, they're going to kill her.”

Just a few days prior we had found Shat Acres Destiny, four feet and udder facing upward toward the sky, belly distended and bloated, and near death. As she thrashed to get herself upright, we noticed one of her beautiful horns dangling and gyrating from the left side of her skull by a shard of bone. With her eyes wide with fear, the left side of her face was soaked with blood.

(See my post of June 4th, when Destiny's calamity occurred)

After relieving the bloat by shallowly plunging a sharp knife into Destiny’s swollen side behind her ribcage, Ray gently rolled her upright, using the tractor and a large, white round wrapped bale. The bloat was clearly not fully dissipated, so the knife was inserted again. A loud whoosh of air, like a balloon being deflated gushed from her side.

The vet was called for an emergency evening visit. We located Destiny’s child, reuniting her with her calf. Highlands are fiercely dedicated to their calves and will do anything to protect and feed them, which has allowed the breed to survive for over 1600 years under the challenging and rugged conditions of the Scottish Highlands. Even though stressed and in pain, having her calf at her side seemed to calm Destiny a bit.

Ray and I gently coerced the confused and disoriented cow and her calf into the barn. When the vet arrived, he sedated her slightly as he did not want her to lie down again. With just a halter securing her, Destiny stood patiently secured behind the chained gate--with her calf nearby--while the remaining bone adhering horn to skull was sawed off by our vet.

Destiny's destiny would be as an asymmetrical one-horned cow. That is, if we could keep her alive long enough for the cavernous hole into her skull to heal. With no skin to stitch over the deep gaping hole, tissue would have to slowly regenerate from the bottom up, with the hope of eventually filling in enough to reach the exterior of her skull, and closing over the wound to prevent infection.

"There is a chance she can make it," said the vet. "We have seen something like this heal before."

"In a Highland cow, with a horn over two feet long, snapped off into the skull?," I asked.

You can guess his answer.

The first couple of days, things seemed to be headed in a positive direction. Destiny, a bit wobbly was eating hay, drinking water, and nursing her month-old bull calf. Her pen in the barn would need to be her residence for at least three months. We could not take the chance of her getting dirt into the wound, or another cow challenging her or bumping the hole and reinjuring it. And we wanted to be sure no flies got onto the open sore until it was fully healed and closed over.

Luckily, there were no flies on any of the cattle and none to be seen in the barn.

Except on the gaping gash into the skull of our beautiful girl, Destiny. The still raw and weeping hole was literally hidden by buzzing green-backed flies, flanked by clumps of white, wiggling maggots.

"Do something," I screamed to Ray, on the verge of losing my breakfast.

I imagined those disgusting little parasites burrowing into Destiny’s brain through her still open wound, killing our beautiful momma cow working so hard to get better and raise her calf.

“Get me a rag, some warm water and the Pine Sol,” Ray directed with urgency.

If a calf gets "fly strike" we wash the affected area with Pine Sol which kills the maggots externally. We then apply Cydectin to kill any maggots that might have migrated internally. The vet was hastily called to update what had happened. We were instructed to spray water from a hose nozzle directly into the wound to flush out any maggots and infection, and to coat the affected area with Catron to repel flies and kill any new maggots. We were to apply Vaseline to the skin on Destiny's face so it would not get chapped or irritated by the 2x daily flushing with the hose or pus draining from the wound. The vet would return to give the second injection of Exceed antibiotic and take a look.

What a champ Destiny was! With a forceful stream of cold, well- water shooting down into the hole in her head twice daily, fly protectant and Vaseline applied from eye to nose, Destiny patiently let us try to help her get better. She never shook her one horn at us or protested in any way--at least for a while. As she started to feel better, she did let us know--though not aggressively--that she was not enjoying all the machinations but let us keep up our daily treatments.

After a month, no more pus emanated from the wound during her daily spraying, and no more flies bothering her injury. The hose spraying was ceased, as was the Vaseline. Destiny's hair began to grow back on her face that had needed to be clipped, when the horn was removed and the blood cleaned from the left side of her head.

Destiny did lose a lot of weight from her ordeal and shock, however her calf continued to be healthy, growing big and fat from momma's milk. Both cow and calf were fed plenty of hay and grain daily to keep Destiny producing the milk her calf needed and maintain her weight the best we could. By the end of two months, we could see that, miraculously, the wound actually was filling in from the bottom!

Ray and I began planning the next steps for Destiny's road to recovery.

We wanted to get Destiny and her calf out onto green grass as soon as possible so that she would not be confined to a pen and could put weight back on. We wondered how she would do in a pasture outside after being enclosed in the barn for three months. Would she have difficulty with balance? Would she get dirt into the newly healed wound? Would other cows approach and try to push heads with her lop-sided looking head?

And would flies bother the space where that once majestic horn had been growing for over thirteen years?

Ray built a separate paddock for Destiny and her calf, one with lots of lush green grass but no other cattle to bother her. Opening the gate to the barn, we held our breath as she gingerly stepped out into the light.

Can you guess what happened?

Destiny swung her head first to the left and then to the right, and took a few careful steps into the pasture with her calf by her side. Then she took a few faster steps, skipped and jumped just a bit, and headed down into the lush grass. Putting her one-horned head down, she began munching loudly on the long, green shoots. Her calf followed suit, skipping a bit more than his momma, but then devouring that same delicious green grass--the first either of them had tasted in over twelve weeks.

And now? Destiny has moved into a different paddock. Not with the main herd and our six-year-old bull, Rocky, but with one gentle, older Highland, Sara, who has paid no attention to the horizontally challenged companion, a Highland/Shorthorn polled cow, and a couple of younger bulls. After all, Destiny does need to get back to work--getting bred back to produce a calf next summer. One of the younger bulls can do the job so that she will not have the stress of our 1900 lb. bull on her back.

In just a couple of weeks, Destiny has gained over 100 lbs., close to her pre-trauma condition. Does she looks good? She looks better than good. Destiny looks TERRIFIC, with one beautiful horn protruding from the right side of her head, and a fully healed and haired over spot on the left, where there used to be a perfectly matched pair.

We cannot be more proud of, and grateful for our Shat Acres Destiny. In life, we never know what our destiny will be. Destiny, by fighting to stay alive to raise her beautiful boy, taught us never to give up on hope, trust, and love.

And that we can be perfect just the way we are.