Rejection
Long ago once upon a
summer day time "back on the farm." I had grazed the cows in the
bottom meadow, but unlike every other morning, we had a cow due to freshen. I watched her wander away from the rest of the herd, and had an inkling
this was her time. I was probably around 13 or 14 years old. I thought if I
were fortunate enough, I could witness the birth. I waited and waited and
waited to no avail. Giving up, I rushed home for dinner; swallowing it all like
a starving hound so I could get back to "the event." I didn't make it
in time. I was heartbroken, because I wanted so much to witness the birth. What I did see, broke my heart even further Instead of
nursing the newborn, the mother was rejecting it. That poor calf, barely able to stand and still wet from the womb would wobble
up to the udder knowingly, only to be kicked away. So hurtful to see that. It brings water to my eyes just remembering the scene. I went over and petted and hugged the
youngun, and she responded in kind; nuzzling my every touch. This one, I did
not have to herd back to the barn. As I started back, she followed every step of the way right along with me to the barn. I mixed some dry calf formula with some warm
water in a peck bucket. Giving her my finger wet with formula, she suckled her
first drop of nourishment. With my finger still in her mouth, I grabbed her nose and
pulled it under for her to snort and blow till she learned to drink on her own.
All the time wondering, how could a mother reject her babe; how?
