My house smells. It is March 30th and we just survived a blizzard. Do you find it all cruel that the Weather Channel would show MY forecast and Miami's forecast at the same time? At least it's partly cloudy in Florida which gives me some consolation.
And so five calves have paraded their way through our entryway in the last 12 hours. Excuse me, foyer. C&L pretended to be interested, but come now -- you've seen one cold and wet calf, you've seen them all. It's pretty amazing to see the newborn calves progress over the course of three to four hours. They come in, covered in filth and smelling like um well, like poop, their eyes sometimes roll back in their heads and they refuse to hold themselves up like a proper calf should. A little hair dryer time, some vigorous towel action and a bag full of re-constituted colostrum pumped into their bellies and BAM! Good as new and ready to go back to mama. It was like an assembly line.
"Okay, you're healthy now. Out the door with you and your stench! Next!"
We love helping the little guys out, but my house sure does smell. And I'm almost out of Febreze. And poor Tucker Dog's bed needs to be thoroughly washed. I wonder what a cow dog thinks when baby calves invade his territory. It seems to agitate him slightly, but he also seems to be trying to mother them. I wouldn't be quite so calm, cool and collected if there was a newborn calf in my bedroom! Poor Tucker Dog.