We had a situation where we had to call a veterinarian out for Cow Cow.
He was banded when we got him. His testicles had been drying up and it was progressing well. However, one day we noticed that his testicles were, um, quite rejuvenated. The area around his scrotum looked red and inflamed. This did not bode well. We were worried. At the same time, we noticed a large baseball size lump that popped up overnight on his hip. CJ and I agreed, he needed to be seen by a Vet. Problem was, 1: we have no way to GET him to the Vet and 2: being new to the area, we do not have a livestock Vet.
I figure since we live in the middle of cow country, surrounded by cows, there must be one nearby that does emergency home visits. This proved more difficult than I thought. None of the Vets near us handled livestock or did home visits. Seriously? There are more cows here than people, I am sure of it… there MUST be a Vet for them! I resorted to what I normally do in these situations and reached out to my local Facebook community page asking for help. This worked (again) and a lady was able to give us the number to her Vet that she uses. I do have to say that Facebook has been a great tool to connect with others when help is needed! We made the call and she came out that day.
CJ was working but told her to call when she was on the way so he could meet her here and help with the cow. Of course, this did not work out and she arrived here before him. Here we go. We grab his halter from the barn. Her and I go up to the pasture and the first thing she asks is, “is he friendly”. I think to myself “Depends on who you ask”, but politely reply that “Yes, he is friendly, but can get a little pushy, especially if you have milk”. She asks if he is halter trained. “Nope, we haven’t got to that part yet”. So now we must catch the cow and get his halter on. Oh fun! I am secretly panicking on the inside while trying to not look like the big sissy that I am on the outside. She has the halter, so I am hoping that she is prepared to take control here. We coral him into his shed and she informs me that I am going to have to stand guard and make sure he does not escape. I almost laugh out loud, but instead just say “Um, ok” and stand there like a soccer goalie, silently giving myself an “I can do this” pep talk. I fail miserably as he runs by me, escaping into the field. I feel like I should be apologizing for my weakness to this woman who shows no fear whatsoever. She does manage to get him and get the halter on him though and we coax him into walking to the barn. He does not approve of this adventure and knows something is up. Once in the barn, she hands me the lead, and leaves to go get her stuff from the truck. She has no idea of my trepidation with this cow.
I am alone… with the cow. Holding him so he does not escape. I do not know if I should panic or laugh at this point. He looks at me and I look at him. He pulls on the lead and I pull back. He is calculating. I see it in his eyes. He knows he can take me. So, I do what I must. I call CJ and beg him to hurry up and get here. I inform him that I have been placed in charge of the cow, whom I fear, and the Vet has no clue that I am a big sissy.
He arrives minutes later, and I am yelling, “In here”. The Vet was back so I could not yell “Please come save me from the scary cow-beast”. But no, I must continue holding him because CJ needs to clean out a stall for him and the vet. This poor lady must be thinking we have no clue as to what we are doing with this cow, and well, she would not be wrong. However, she is extremely nice about it.
Once everything is situated, I can thankfully hand over the lead. We get him into the stall, and she looks at his testicles. She informs us it is not as bad as it looks, but she will have to castrate him. She will also need more light to do so. The lead comes back to me (oh great) and CJ goes off to find another light source. She brings out a needle, filled with a sedative, and informs me to be careful because he is not going to like it when she sticks him. Uh, I am not exactly sure what she wants me to do. I am in a closed stall with no escape AT ALL, with a cow that is about to be stabbed. So, once again, I just stand there and say, “Ok”, while I mentally plan to scale the darn wall like a spider if I have to.
She sticks him quick and surprisingly he does not freak out. Whew. I think I jumped more than he did. She then leaves the stall to go get what she needs and tells me, again, to be careful because he will stumble around and then fall. She informs me that when he does, I must keep him in a sitting position because cows cannot lay on their sides. They will not be able to breathe if they are on their side. For the love of all things holy, why me? What exactly led me to this point in my life? At what point did the big sissy exert any level of “I am confident in my abilities with the cow” to be placed in this situation? He wobbles a little, I stand back as far as I can while holding his lead. I try to give him reassurance that everything will be ok. He wobbles a little more. I ask him very politely to just lay down and let it happen. I also remind him that I am not the one who stabbed him in the butt, and ask not to eat me, please and thank you. Then he promptly falls over. Thankfully, the Vet is back at the same time, takes control of the lead, and positions him correctly for me. No drunk cow manhandling for me!
CJ comes back in (took him long enough) and I run outside the stall, so I do not get volunteered for anything again. She takes the lead, wraps it around his leg and pulls it back out of her way. She has CJ hold the lead, as I closed the door and stood outside to be sure I am in a safe position. She tells CJ to make sure he holds it tight because she is going to charge him extra if she gets kicked in the face. I like her! She makes a snip, ties off the tubes hanging out of the cow, and with a quick cut, his testicles are off. Then she unceremoniously throws the sack in the corner of the stall. She asks us if we want to dehorn him as well. I speak up and tell her that he is going to be a beef cow and that I thought his horns would not grow enough to worry about before he goes to freezer camp. She informs me that is absolutely incorrect, and we should remove the horns. Thanks, stupid internet, now I look like a sissy and an idiot. We agree to remove them.
I must tell you. I was in no way, shape, or form, emotionally prepared for what happened next. She pricks him again to numb him. She pulls out this thing and plugs it in. It looks like a large electric screwdriver in shape except the end of it is circular with nothing in the middle of the circle. It starts to warm up and gets hot. It clicks in my brain that she is going to burn the buds. Oh my. When she does this, I realize why the end is a circle. It does not burn the actual horn like I thought. It goes around the horn. She presses down and it BURNS the area around the horn. His poor little flesh is BURNING! He starts to breathe a little heavier. My barn is filled with smoke and the smell of burning flesh. I can hear it sizzling! My face is stuck in a position of absolute horror! She must see me, because she explains that the horn does not grow from the part that sticks out, but the part that is under the skin so you have to kill that part of it for the horn to stop growing. My face does not budge from its position of horror. She finishes one horn and then uses the same tool to kind of knock off the top of that horn and starts on the other. My poor little Cow Cow! I may be scared he is going to eat me, but I still love him, and this is just not what I was expecting. I do not know what I was expecting, but I know this was not it!
She finishes up and checks the lump on his hip. She drains it and lets us know that it is not a cyst. The lump is gone after it is drained. She is not overly concerned about it. It could be that he was bit, stung, or he could have just hit that area against the fence.
They come out and I still have the look of horror on my face. CJ quietly asks if I am going to be ok. I can only reply “No”. We go to settle with the bill, and I try to make my face go back to normal. She helps with this when she tells us the bill is a whopping $72.00. What! I expected it to be hundreds at least! I am shocked and my face shows it! This lady, drove out on an emergency call, helped me wrangle the cow, gave him a sedative, numbed him, castrated him, dehorned him, gave him a tetanus shot (somewhere in the middle of all of that), and gave us a booster shot for us to give him later. For only $72.00!!!! I cannot even take my dog to the Vet for that amount and he is as big as the cow!!!! Wow. We obviously agree that she will be our vet from here on out.
We keep Cow Cow in the barn
as she suggested for 24 hours, until he is up and moving the next day. He seems to do fine and does not seem to be in pain. I still feel bad for him though. The lump on his hip did come back the next day, but CJ and I agree to just keep an eye on it. We take him back to the pasture and he seems to be happy to be back out there.
What an experience! I am learning that there is always an adventure around the corner with Cow Cow!
Also, I think his sack is still in the corner of the barn-stall. Gross.