Farming Diary

This page will be updated monthly/bi-monthly so that you can keep up-to-date with the key events happening in the farming calendar, giving you an insight into how we manage our organic farm through the seasons.

Trials & tribulations of an Organic Farmer

By Robert White

My Phone rang at 4 o'clock in the morning this morning dragging me out of a deep slumber. At first I thought it was the alarm but realized that my alarm didn’t make that noise! I answered it to hear the voice of my father at the other end “Morning Robert, Did I wake you. Pettula’s calving and I don’t like the look off her”.

I was out of bed in a flash dragging my wife Karen behind me, fumbling around in the cold light of the early dawn cursing the fact that why hadn’t I left my socks where I could find them.

Grabbing our dog Winston, who really didn’t understand what was going on we bundled into my van and ten minutes later and some dukes of hazard driving we arrived at the farm to find my Mum and Dad and my foreman Gary already in the yard.

Seeing us climbing over the gate my dad says “She's a Heifer Robert, 2 bloody great feet sticking out.” Now in the world of cattle and calving neither one of these statements are good. A Heifer means she has never had a calve before and doesn’t know what to do and big feet means it’s a big calve that needs a little help to deliver it.

Rolling up my sleeves James Heroit fashion I inserted an arm to check that the calf was in a normal position to be delivered without the help of our vetinary. You have to do it all by feel but I soon could feel a nose and head and so began attaching our calving ropes to its feet in order to lend a helping hand. The idea is to apply gentle pressure. Timing our pull with her contractions. It was indeed a very big calf but after 5 minutes of pulling we began to see its head emerge. It’s at this point that everything gets a bit urgent as up to now the calf is being supplied by his umbilical cord, but once its half way out the cord is stretched and so it’s a race to get the calf delivered and breathing. So with 4 pairs of tired arms we pulled with renewed effort. With one last pull the calf slid out onto the straw throwing everyone back into a heap of arms, legs and calving ropes.

Picking ourselves up off the ground we carried the calf around to his mother and held our breath as she inspected her new arrival. Usually we would expect the mother to start licking her baby to within an inch of its life. But no! Pettula just stared, in deep shock she had no idea of what had just happened or what this slimy shivering thing we had presented her with was. We all held our breath slowly edging backward hoping that given space she would accept her calf. But still she stood motionless. Thoughts of what if she doesn’t accept it run through your mind. Where did we put the bottle and teats? Have we any colostrum to give the baby.

Then all of a sudden, Winston who had been watching events from the safety of the gate bolted towards the calf and started wildly licking its face. Pettula stirred by some primeval urge to protect her off spring from the ferocious wolf, lunged forwards sending Winston scurrying away to the gate and then to our relief let out a long low moo and started the bonding process.

We packed away our calving rope and walked down the drive in what by now was a beautiful morning. The sun had risen in a cloudless sky and the dawn chorus was in full swing. Winston was given an extra big breakfast that morning as the rest of us had steaming hot cups of tea.

Pettula and her calf are doing well. And will go out to grass in a day or two.

Tune in next month for an update on what’s been going on down on the farm.

Robert