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Calving season brings mix of wonder and worry

Calving season, even in the best weather, sprinkles ranch life with adventure and wonder. Special to The Forum1 / 2
Jessie Veeder, Coming Home columnist2 / 2

We're in the middle of calving season here at the Veeder Ranch. And because we're in North Dakota, our plans to calve mid-April didn't necessarily get us out of the cold woods.

Every coulee and protected place on the ranch is still full of snow, so every day is like a scavenger hunt for shiny, little black heads popping out of the tall grass, if they were lucky enough to be born in a dry spot.

Edie is the queen of the barnyard when she's sitting next to her daddy, bouncing along the prairie trails in the pastures, unaware of the lessons she's already learning about life and death and a mother's fierce love.

Last week she stood on the pickup seat looking out the window as her dad's attempt to tag a new baby turned into a game of Ring-Around-The-Pickup with a protective momma.

When he flung the door open, faced flushed and breath heavy, Edie unflappably asked, "Whatcha doing, Daddy? Running with the cows?"

And it reminded me of all the times I watched my own dad test his speed and agility in snow boots and coveralls trying to avoid a concerned momma's head butt as he worked to get a closer look at her baby. This business of being born out here is a dangerous game for every man and beast involved.

I'll never forget the time I opted out of my bench seat perch to stay in and watch "Wheel of Fortune" with Gramma only to have Dad come crawling up to her doorstep, bruised, bloody, covered in earth and lucky to be alive.

Yes, calving season, even in the best weather, sprinkles ranch life with adventure and wonder. On the best days, it's miraculous to count the precious new lives that arrive without fanfare and are up on their four wobbly feet sucking and ready to live within minutes.

On the bad days, when the wind whips hard and cold and wet, it takes every muscle and all your spirit to lift those lives out of the muck and trudge on. Ask any rancher and they'll likely admit this year has taken its toll, sending a fair share of babies from the pasture to the entryway heat lamp, each life saved a sigh of relief.

On Sunday, we walked into Mom and Dad's to find our own entryway baby, born in a snowbank to a momma with good intentions but bad timing. It was one of the first Sundays since Dad has been home that we had the whole family together. We huddled around that poor frozen soul lying among our boots as my uncle helped Dad put warm colostrum in her belly, rub her body and move her limbs.

And even though we knew we probably shouldn't get attached, we named her April, put our warm hands to her cold nose, stroked her soft ears and watched her come back to life, stand up on her own four legs and find her place back by her momma's side.

And among all the mud and medicine, work and worry, it felt like nothing short of a triumph for us all.

Jessie Veeder is a musician and writer living with her husband and daughters on a ranch near Watford City, N.D. She blogs at https://veederranch.com. Readers can reach her at jessieveeder@gmail.com.

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