6 of 32

Write now Article Tools

Licorice the Bucket Calf

Our calves like to enter this world on holidays and Licorice was no exception. He was born on New Years Eve, a strong bull calf who looked just enough like a buffalo to make us suspect his real father was the bison who'd escaped a neighbor's farm the spring before.

A few days after Licorice was born, his mother refused to come up to eat. We got her on her feet and into the barn, but noticed she was bleeding heavily from her vagina. Before the veterinarian could get there, she had died. Licorice had become a bucket calf.

At that time, I was new to raising cattle. My father-in-law had passed away the winter before and entrusted us to take care of the cattle he'd so carefully reared. We had kept them fed and watered, but I had no idea how to get a calf to suck a nipple attached to a bucket. While my husband John and his brother Robert dragged the mother's body out of the barn with the tractor, I went into John's mother's house to fix a bucket of milk replacer. That part was easy-follow the directions. Then came the hard part.

Robert helped me get Licorice into the barn. I approached the calf. He backed away, wary of this creature with a nipple in the wrong place. I spoke to him softly, "Come on, Licorice. I know you're sad about your mama, but you have to eat."

Licorice backed further into the corner. I crept up beside him. He moved away, shaking his head. I tried again.

"Having trouble?" Robert asked. He took the bucket from me and sprinkled milk replacer onto the back of his wrist, "Do you think it's warm enough?"

"It was warm when I made it." Even in the barn, it was so cold steam rose off the bucket of cooled milk.

"Why don't you go warm it up and I'll hold him for you."

"It's worth a try." I went back into the house to add some more hot water. I figured diluted milk was better than nothing at all. I went back outside.

Robert strong-armed Licorice and I squirted some of the milk into his mouth. He shook his head and spit it out. I squirted again. This time he licked his lips. I pushed the nipple into his mouth and squirted out some milk. Licorice got the idea and sucked.

Robert took his arm away and stood up. Licorice butted at the bucket. Warm milk splashed down my thighs, soon turning cold, then icy. I repositioned the nipple and he started to suck again. He butted. More milk splashed down my thighs. "Why does he keep butting at it?" I asked.

"It's what they do when they suck from their mama. I guess it makes the milk flow," Robert answered.

"I hope he gets the idea that it doesn't help here."

"You know," Robert laughed. "That bull is going to think you're his mama."

I scratched the curly knot on Licorice's head. "I guess that's okay, isn't it Licorice?"

Robert shook his head, "Well if you've got things under control, I'll go help John burn the heifer."

"It's going to take a while to burn a cow that big, isn't it?"

"Days, I suspect." Robert looked around the barn, "You don't know if there are any old tires around do you?"

"Why?"

"They burn longer than wood."

I shook my head, "Sorry. John might know."

"I'll find some," Robert left the barn.

Licorice butted the bucket again and I noticed it was almost empty. "If you hadn't spilled so much of it on me, you'd still have some," I scolded. I went back into the house to fix Licorice a little more milk. This time, he was anxious for it.

Every morning, I walked up the hill with John when he fed the cattle. He poured grain for the adults. I fed Licorice a bucket of milk. By the end of the week, he called out as soon as he saw me coming. And I could swear he called out, "M-ma ma".

Learn more about this author, Rachelle Reese.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Cowboy humor: True stories about cattle?
We want to hear your view. Write now!