There was one obvious cow missing. Wanda.
I found her up in the woods away from the herd.
She was bagging up and preparing to have a calf.
There have been some very nasty thinderstorms and downpours every evening and I knew that this calf would more than likely be born during one of those storms, since more were heading our way.
I gently coaxed Wanda (my favorite cow, btw) down to where the herd was shading.
She continued to gorge herself on grass before her big birthing event.
I counted calves and cows again and headed home.
Sure enough that evening there was another big storm, with flooding in many New Hampshire and Vermont communities.
Early the next morning I went looking for my beloved Wanda.
And found her in a field cleaning off her newborn calf.
In a few minutes the hefty heifer attempted to rise and try out her long legs.
She gave me a quick look as she searched for the warm milk she craved.
It takes awhile before a calf finds the correct location of the milk bar.
This heifer kept searching.
and searching....
Wanda made little sounds of encouragement to her new daughter.
Their bonding moments were interrupted by the unofficial "welcome wagon" of calves that descended quickly upon the little meadow hilltop..
They all wanted to meet their new sister.
Once they scampered off, the search for nourishment continued.
After a few sips the tired heifer laid down.
Being born is exhausting.
I need good "W" names. Give me long lists of them.
~
