Mother at Seventeen

It was a moonless night. The time was about 8 p.m. The baby was due anytime. It was raining outside. The pains were coming intermittently. The long labour was proving difficult. Then one push and the baby was out. But the mother was spent. She had breathing problems.The vet was called in, the drip started. He did not have much hope. The calf lay beside the mama cow which was licking her clean. But she was weak and soon she put her head down on the shed floor, her muzzle near the calf. We kept vigil till 11 pm.

First thing in the morning, we were at the shed, and could see the cow breathing labouriously. The vet was there and shouting at the assistant that he should not have administered the drip so fast the night before. And soon, she breathed her last. The calf was orphaned.

We tried to suckle her at other cows in the farm. But she wasn’t accepted. One of the cows even kicked her. Poor calf, she was on her own. Since everyone else in the family had something more important to do, I was given the job of taking care of the calf.

Rummaging through the old bottles, I found one the right size for the calf, tried to fit a nipple from one of young nephew’s bottle. I sterilized the bottle and filled it up with 70% milk and 30 % water, added a spoon of sugar and walked to the barn where she was kept. I knelt beside her. Her legs were not completely steady yet. And I tried to push the bottle into her mouth. She licked once and looked away. I coaxed her to drink and again the same. I tried many times through the day but with little success. She seemed distracted and insecure. That evening I put a sack around her before I crept into the bed and hoped that here won’t be any snakes in the barn. Through the night, I tossed and turned thinking of ways to feed my baby.
I was a mother at seventeen.

By morning I had an idea. I filled up the sterilized bottle and went to the barn and brought her out in the open. Then I astrode her and pushed the bottle against her mouth. She opened and drank a little. It took some time for her to learn to suckle. She would tug at the bottle and I was afraid that the nipple will come off. I think the comfort of legs was soothing to her inborn instinct.

From that day onwards, she thought I was her mom. She would rush to me whenever I ventured. She looked scrawny still with a pot belly as the nutrition wasn’t really right for her. I slowly lessened the amount of water and even gave some mango juice. She was growing and so was my pride.

But it is kind of difficult to play mother to a calf. The moment I stepped out of the houses for anything, the calf came running to me baawing happily. Once when I was putting the clothes out to dry, she came out of nowhere and hit me from the back once, twice and thrice. I lost my balance and fell down. I mouthed some foul words at her and went in limping. The next morning, I went to pluck a papaya and again got rammed in the butt. The calf was doing it by instinct, run to mama and hit at the udders between the legs expecting milk will flow.

I asked my aunt to keep the calf on a tether and she declined to do it, saying that it’s the only period of their life when they can run around. Let it play.

The situation put me in a spot. The milk I gave her in a bottle was not sufficient. She wanted more and she thought she can get it if she rammed me. I could not step out of the house. Seeing my plight, aunt took over. She slowly weaned her off the milk only diet.

And about three weeks later, I ventured out. I saw her coming towards and I retraced my steps. But aunt stood in the doorway. The calf just came and stood beside me expecting me to cuddle her, which I did.

To me, till this date, that calf is the one who taught me what being a mother was.