“Only if things get complicated.” And she hoped that wouldn’t happen. “I’ve done this before. It’s just tricky and time-consuming, but doable.”
“What can I do to help?”
Her heart gave a silly little flutter at his earnest question. Usually she had one of the guys helping her with this, but they were all out, tending to little miracles of their own. She could handle this.
She
eyed Shane’s beefy shoulders with a weary but heartfelt grin. “I’m going to let you show off your manly side.”
“Meaning?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“You get to do all the pulling.”
Her last glimpse of Shane before she focused all her attention on the cow was of his sure nod. He had his game face on. This aspect of ranching was one he’d never known, but he’d stepped up and she respected him for that.
Brandee made a loop with one end of the chain and reached in until she located the calf’s legs. The snug fit and the way he was positioned meant that getting the chain over the hoof required dexterity and patience. To block out all distractions, Brandee closed her eyes and “saw” with her fingers. Before she could get the loop over the hoof, she lost the opening and the chain straightened out.
Frustration surged. The miserable night had worn her down. Feeling raw and unfocused, she pulled her arm out and re-created the loop before trying once more. It took her three attempts and ten agonizing minutes before she’d captured both hooves. She was breathing hard past the tightness in her throat as she turned to Shane.
“Okay, now it’s your turn.” Her voice was thick with weariness and she struggled not to let her anxiety show. “We’ll do this slow. I need you to pull one side and then the other to get his hooves pointed outward. I’ll let you know which to pull and when.”
Working together in slow stages, they got the calf’s back legs straightened so that both were heading down the birth canal. Both Brandee and Shane were sweating in the cool barn air by the time stage one was complete.
“What now?” Shane asked, stepping back to give Brandee room to move around the heifer.
“We need to get her down on her right side. It’s the natural position for birthing. I want as little stress on her as possible.”
Brandee slipped a rope around the cow right in front of her hip bones and tightened it while rocking her gently to get her to lie down. Once the heifer was on her side, Brandee made sure the chains were still properly positioned around the calf’s cannon bones.
“Good,” she said, noting that the cow was starting to contract once more. “Let’s get this done.”
She sat down on the ground and grabbed the first hook. When the cow contracted, Brandee pulled. Nothing happened. She set her foot against the cow for leverage and switched to the second hook. With the next contraction, she pulled again without success. This breeched baby was good and stuck.
“Let me help.” Shane nudged her over and sat beside her.
After alternating back and forth between the two chains a few times, Brandee dropped her head onto her arms as frustration swallowed her whole.
“Damn it, I don’t want to use the calf puller.” But it was very much appearing like she’d have to.
An uncharacteristic urge to cry rose in her. She wanted to throw herself against Shane’s chest and sob. Brandee gritted her teeth. She never got emotional like this.
“Come on,” Shane said, bumping her shoulder with his in encouragement. “We can do this.”
His focus was complete as he timed his exertions with the cow’s contractions. Following his example, Brandee put her energy into willing the damned calf to move. The heifer groaned, Shane grunted and Brandee’s muscles strained.
After four more contractions, they were able to get more of the legs out and Brandee felt some of the tension ease from her chest. There was still no guarantee that the calf would be alive when they were done, but at least they were making progress.
“Here,” she said, shifting the wood platform and sliding it against the cow’s backside between the calf’s legs and the floor. Now she and Shane had a better brace for their feet. “He’s starting to loosen. A few more contractions and we’ll have him.”
Then like a cork coming loose from a champagne bottle, the rear half of the calf was suddenly out. They scooted back to make way and then scrambled to their feet. With one final contraction and two mighty pulls from Brandee and Shane, the calf slipped free in a disgusting expulsion of amniotic fluid and blood.
Shane gave a soft whoop as he and a very relieved Brandee dragged the limp calf ten feet away from the cow.
“Is it alive?” Shane bent down and peered at the unmoving calf while Brandee peeled the sack from its face and cleared fluid from its nostrils.
“It sure is.” She exuberantly roughed up its coat in a simulation of its mother’s rough licking and watched it begin to draw breath into its lungs.
Shane peeled off the rubber gloves he’d donned and turned them inside out to avoid transferring the gore to his skin. “What a rush.”