Down. But Not Out.
"Come up to the barn. And hurry!”
Slipping into my barn Sketchers and dropping everything, I ran as fast as I could from the house, up the hill to the barn.
What do your angels wear?
Our angels last week wore green bib overalls, a long blue dress, and gold sandals.
At around 6:30 am, July 22, 2026, Ray looked at the monitor conveying the camera feed from the barn. Leaving half-eaten toast on the table, he declared, “I’m headed to the barn. I’m going to check on Tabitha.”
Tabitha is a first-calf, red-roan, pure Shorthorn heifer. I did not have a due date for her calving (my bad) but we could tell she was getting closer by her enlarging udder and swollen private parts. When Ray arrived at the barn Tabitha had conveniently taken herself into one of the pens in the barn. Ray closed the gate and observation time began.
First calf heifers usually take longer to calve than experienced momma cows, so we were not too concerned when despite appearing to be in early labor no water sac or feet had been produced. And then the harder contractions began. I checked my phone. Contractions were now around five minutes apart.
After around 40 minutes, with no progress, I announced the directive.
“Put Tabitha in the chute.”
I have good intuition about maternal and birthing issues, but am largely helpless about solving the problems I intuit, unless it is dialing the number for the vet. The real work falls upon Ray. With Tabitha obligingly entering the chute, Ray donned his long yellow glove and reached in.
“She's got a really tight door,” he said. “And I can’t feel the head.”
It was Ray’s turn to give the directive.
“Call the vet. We need a vet. And now.”
When Ray says we need a vet, we need a vet. He can solve most calving issues, but keenly knows when he is over his head. Our vet knows when we call for assistance, the animal in need will be safely secured in our Hi Hog squeeze chute when they arrive. We are incredibly fortunate to have our large animal Montpelier Veterinary Hospital less than ten miles away. There are several Vets in the practice, each and every one of them competent, caring, and when need be strong and determined. They can usually be at our farm 1/2 to 3/4 hour after we call. (Coincidentally, I taught the owner of the practice in 1st grade.)
The Vet and her assistant Vet Tech arrived in matching green bib overalls and went right to work. Upon inspection, Dr. Powers affirmed to Ray that the exit door was in fact a tight squeeze. She also shared that the calf’s head Ray had not been able to find was rolled backwards in Tabitha’s uterus. What I had hoped would be a simple Vet assisted delivery turned out to be a much more complex, challenging life and near death event.
That tight door was a definite hindrance to getting a viable calf out of Tabitha. Dr. Powers was able to reach one front foot and apply a double hitch looped chain above the fetlock. Reaching and feeling inside Tabitha she got the other foot secured with the chain loop. However, pulling those legs would have to wait until the head could be turned forward so that it would exit with the front feet. After much maneuvering inside Tabitha's not only tight door but cramped uterus Dr. Powers was able to rotate the head to the correct position.
"Don't lay down! Tabitha! Stay standing!"
Just prior to the directive to begin pulling the legs, Tabitha did just that. With it much more challenging to deliver a calve when the cow is in a prone position on her belly, it is optimum to be able to pull as the cow is standing, in a downward angle to assist the calf being born. Poor Tabitha was exhausted from the prolonged struggle and time it was taking to get her baby out. What do we do when we are exhausted? Tabitha collapsed and lay down in the chute. No coaxing or prodding could convince her to get back on her feet.
Unfortunately, when Tabitha changed positions so did the calf's head, again flopping back toward the back of the uterus. With no choice but to continue trying to get the calf out with Tabitha laying down, Dr. Powers went back in to try to turn the calf's head into the correct position. Once she asked Ray to work inside Tabitha as her hand had cramped. After a few minutes she said she was good to go back in.
"I've got it! The head is facing forward again. I'll tell you when to pull."
Directing Ray and the tech assistant to pull on their chains like conducting an orchestra, first Ray pulled, then the tech, then together, then Ray, then tech, rinse and repeat. Despite our best work, we could not get that head to clear the tight doorway Tabitha was providing, even more challenging now that gravity was not helping with the delivery. Although we all tried to be optimistic, we worried it likely that when/if the calf was relinquished from Tabitha, it would no longer be alive.
With me slathering lubricant and sliding my hand around the vulva to try to enlarge the opening, Ray and the Vet Tech pulling, and Dr. Powers inside trying to keep the head facing forward, we began to make progress.
"Here comes the head!"
And it did. With tongue hanging out and so far still pink! Generally, once the head clears, the hips slide out easily. Not so today. With Tabitha lying down in the chute and that tight door, those hips refused to exit momma cow. Everyone pulled, slathered, enlarged, but to no avail. Finally, by hooking a calf-jack to the chains, and trying to slightly roll the hips by lifting up on one chain and then the other, the calf was born. With the calf laying limp in the straw, momma was still prone on the bottom of the chute.
Have you ever noticed the long eyelashes baby cows have? Miraculously, we watched those long eyelashes slowly open and close as the calf sucked in air and its tiny ribs moved up and down. All hands went to work, rubbing the calf vigorously with clean towels, clearing out nostrils and mouth, rolling the calf upright to allow a straight shot for oxygen to get deep into lungs.
What a fighter! Tabitha's calf had endured one of the most challenging deliveries we had ever experienced, battling to stay alive against all odds. No problem with those lungs, as the calf surprised us by loudly announcing her arrival with a loud baby moo within minutes of being born. BoSe shot administered, navel trimmed, iodine applied to the navel, we looked at each other with relief and gratitude for the teamwork it took to get this calf out--a calf with such a strong will to live. We cheered that the worst was over, with a much better outcome than any of us had expected. Success!
Except there was a problem. Momma Tabitha continued to lay prone in the chute. We had expected she would quickly stand after her calf was finally extricated. She did not.
"Let's give her some time," said the Vet. "She's been through a lot. We'll call and check on how she is doing in a little while."
Before the Vet left, she lay down in the straw to check Tabitha to be sure there was not a twin hiding inside. We were all relieved when that examination proved negative.
When the vet checked an hour later, Tabitha was still not upright. One of their other Vets and tech were out on a nearby call, and would stop by to check on Tabitha on their way home. Ray and I hoped Tabitha would surprise everyone and be standing by the time the second Vet arrived. Tabitha did not grant us that wish. The second Vet checked momma's temperature, heart rate, and breathing. All seemed normal save an elevated heart rate.
"Not surprising after her ordeal. We'll give her a shot of Dexamethasone, and leave you with four more shots to give her one every 24 hours."
Although Tabitha had not stood up, she had somehow scooched and pulled herself out of the chute into her straw-filled pen. It was now several hours post-delivery, and we accepted there was no way for the vigorous and hungry calf to nurse. It is critical to get colostrum into a calf within the first twelve hours of life, after which the initially permeable intestine loses its ability to absorb the larger molecules in colostrum than those found in milk. I took some colostrum from the freezer, surplus generously supplied by Shayna's when we milked some from her udder to make it easier for her newborn calf to latch onto earlier this Spring. Thawing it in a water bath, into a bottle it went to be rushed to the barn.
Remember that calf we did not expect to survive her prolonged and traumatic birth? She knew just what to do, rapidly downing that colostrum and emptying the bottle. Once a calf has a belly full of warm colostrum, we feel more confident about its survival.
However, Ray and I realized we had a bigger problem to deal with.
In over 60 years of raising Highland and Highland/Shorthorn cattle, we had never experienced a cow unable to stand. We had no idea how to help poor Tabitha. With her weighing around 1200 lbs., we had no idea how to help get her onto her feet. Had she broken her pelvis during delivery? Had she torn tendons in her hips? At a loss for what to do, we called the vet for suggestions.
"You'll need a sling. Once you get the sling under her, you will lift Tabitha with the tractor. Raise her up, then gently lower her to see if she can hold weight in her hind end. Keep her upright for about 15 minutes at a time. She should get stronger in time as long as she continues to eat and drink."
Which she was doing like a champ.
A sling? Where would we get a sling? I went to the only dairy farm left in our town to see if they had a sling. They thought they might, but had no idea where it might be. A text came in from the vet. One of their front desk assistants had a sister who had a dairy farm in another town, who had a sling. She would bring it to the Vet's for me to pick up. I drove to Montpelier, loaded a plastic bag with a heavy red fabric contraption with lots of straps, chains and hooks attached to it, into my Subaru. A hand-drawn diagram accompanied the sling.
Ray is a mechanical super-star. While I tried to decipher and explain the diagram, he tried slide the sling under the 1200 lb. downed cow and hook straps and chains. After struggling with the sling, we sadly admitted we could not accomplish this alone. I messaged the farmer who had shared the sling whom Ray had known her for 27 years. We asked if it might be possible for her to come help us the next day to secure the sling to lift Tabitha.
Leaving her job at the Town Clerk's office, Jasmin arrived in a long, blue dress, gold sandals on her feet. She and Ray tried to roll Tabitha to get the sling under her. Impossible. Jasmin went to her car, bringing another device we had been lucky enough to have never seen before. The hip jack was secured to Tabitha's hind end. With chains attached to the grabber, the tractor lifted our big girl just enough to get the sling under her. Jasmin knew just how to wrap and secure the sling, and in no time Tabitha was suspended from the grabber floating above the ground.
Lowering her a bit, it was painful to watch her legs and hips buckle, unable to support her weight. Jasmin assured us she had seen this before and that in time Tabitha might be able to stand on her own, although Ray and I were doubtful of that outcome. With Tabitha elevated and udder exposed, her calf was haltered and brought to her. Ignition was immediate, determined, and vigorous. This was a joyous moment amongst the sad ones Ray and I were struggling with. The calf was getting a full belly of momma's milk, and keeping momma from getting mastitis.
After suspending Tabitha upright for about 15 minutes, we air-lifted her back into the barn and gently lowered her down. Jasmin was kind enough to come back the next day for another treatment. Tabitha had continued to semi-crawl around the pen but never set her feet under her. The next day we only needed the hip jack! Tabitha did seem to be getting stronger, needing a little less support when lifted and lowered. That evening, checking the camera from the house, we watched her try to stand, toppling over every single time. We did not dare leave the calf in with her, as we were afraid Tabitha might try to stand, fall, and crush her calf. Ray and I were facing the painful possibility of having to put down one of our cows, that might never be able to stand.
At around 6:30 am on July 25, 2026 Ray and I stared at the monitor showing Tabitha's pen, as we had over and over every day since the delivery, hoping for the best, fearful for the worst.
"I'm headed for the barn. I've got to check on Tabitha. It looks like she might be hung up on something."
A few minutes later, my phone rang. "I need you up here. Now."
Grabbing barn Sketchers again, I rushed out of the house and ran to the barn, fearful of what I might see. Ray was leaning on the gate at the front of Tabitha's pen. Bawling, I saw Tabitha standing at the back of her pen, contentedly munching hay. She acted as if she had never been down and out for four days, never broken our hearts every minute we watched her suffer, never made us concerned that delivering her calf had cost Tabitha her life.
Baby Tilly (German for Battle Mighty) was rushed to her up-on-four-legs momma. Those gushy slurping sounds were music to our ears. After her breakfast, Tilly was removed to her pen until we were sure Tabitha was steady enough on her feet for them to stall together. Later that afternoon, Ray felt she was. Tilly, clearly madly in love with her momma, laid tight to Tabitha, nursing every chance she got. Tabitha, who in her weakened state following Tilly's birth had not been able to bond with her calf after birth, was not so sure.
That was then. This is now.
Tabitha loves her baby! She licks and bathes Tilly as momma cows do. They lay close together when they sleep. When Tabitha stands up--which she now does like a champ--Tilly latches on for a belly full of momma's milk with symbiosis that makes a cow/calf farm so rewarding for its animals and humans.
The Miracle of Tabitha and Tilly happened only with the help of angels in green-bibbed overalls, a flowing blue dress, and now-stained gold sandals.
I am aware this was a long story. It is a long story, feeling like a lifetime between the time Tilly was born and Tabitha again was standing on her own four feet. Grateful. Thankful. Blessed.
Greenfield Highland Beef Highland House Farm Stay Capital City Farmers' Market Montpelier Vermont Vermont Agency of Agriculture #farmlife #farming #WomenInFarming #babyanimals #SeekAndSavor