The Difficult Birth of the Cow

Montana, a night like any other. When everyone had gone to bed, Dante was curled up on the couch, half-asleep. A brief, sharp howl in the distance disturbed his slumber.

The intercom next to the couch suddenly crackled to life.

Immediately after, a low bark sounded beside him. Before he could react, the dog sleeping at his side was awake.

"Dante, there's a situation!" A deep, raspy voice came through the intercom.

"Scud, calm down." Dante sprang up from the couch, startled. Quickly regaining his composure, he patted the head of the dog beside him, grabbed the walkie-talkie, and swiftly asked, "What's going on?"

His heart raced, and his instincts told him something was wrong. Holding the radio, he moved toward a cabinet where he kept weapons for emergencies.

Yes, things had changed a bit. Since returning to his father's ranch, he had wanted to experience what it was like to earn an honest living. Life had been too easy lately, and he sought new challenges.

That was why he had started helping his brother Lee manage the ranch and why he had gotten himself a curious dog.

But none of that mattered now—there was a situation, and Dante was gearing up.

He didn't know how the security systems had failed, but by morning, heads were going to roll.

"Zz... One of the cows' water just broke, and she's in bad shape!"

Dante, who was in the middle of putting on a bulletproof vest, dropped the assault rifle in his hands. He looked at his dog, Scud, who stared back at him intently.

"Damn it, I'm on my way." Dante left all his weapons behind, grabbed a flashlight, and dashed out the door, closely followed by Scud.

The night wind was cold, but Dante didn't care as he sprinted toward the barn, wiping the saliva from his face with his sleeve while picking up speed. His boots squeaked against the dry ground.

As soon as he entered the barn, he was hit by warm, humid air mixed with the scent of manure and damp hay.

The dim lights of the shed illuminated the restless cow pacing back and forth, panting anxiously.

His older brother Lee, with disheveled hair and a full beard, frowned slightly.

Hearing someone approach, Lee looked up, his light-blue eyes flashing with unease. "What took you so long?"

"Well, I thought you were calling about something else, so I got ready." Dante wasn't about to admit he'd been arming himself to the teeth—that would make him look paranoid.

"That doesn't matter. I called you because you want to learn, so watch closely. Help me hold this." Lee, seeing his brother arrive, rolled up his right sleeve to his shoulder, washed his arm quickly and thoroughly in a bucket of clean water, and reached for a bundle of rope.

"Let me do it." Dante watched in horror as the scene unfolded before him. His dog, Scud, wisely stayed at his side, silently observing the cow lying on the ground.

"You're not ready for this yet, little brother," Lee said with a slight smile.

"Of course I'm ready! Someday, I'll be a dad, and I need to be prepared to bring my child into the world." Dante frowned and muttered doubtfully, but then stepped aside, letting Lee handle the dirty work.

However, like a good observer, Dante stepped forward to calm the cow.

Lee leaned in to check on the cow and said earnestly, "Last time, you left your watch right there. Be careful with that."

"Is it that important? I know from experience most of my watches are water-resistant." Dante didn't usually care much about his accessories.

Lee ignored the comment. According to the ranchers, that watch was worth more than a horse and five cows, but he didn't want to ask where his brother got so much money.

For now, there were more important matters at hand—the cow's cries.

As any rancher knows, calves tend to be born at the worst possible times.

A calf with dystocia was an even worse situation, and as cowboys, they had to act fast, or they'd lose at least a thousand dollars.

Though Lee had more experience than most ranchers, he was still a bit nervous.

With almost his entire arm inside the cow, Lee quickly found the calf's hind legs.

"This is more shocking than I thought," Dante, who had witnessed massacres, was stunned to see his brother's arm inside the cow.

After locating the hooves and gently tying a knot around each hind leg, Lee used moderate force to pull, trying to avoid harming the cow.

"I should remind you, you stepped in cow manure—you can't walk into the house like that," Dante teased, attempting to lighten the mood as he helped with the cow.

"Hey, you know what?" Lee glared at him while maneuvering the calf. "Even if you can't see it now, I've got my middle finger up for you."

Dante looked at the cow's stomach, then at his brother's hand. "I didn't think you'd be so funny. You should be a comedian. At my pub, I'm planning to implement a comedy night. You could try making people laugh."

Moo!

As the cow's next contraction came, Lee pulled hard on the rope, straightening the calf's shoulders.

Slowly, with the mother's effort, the calf was fully delivered and landed safely on the hay.

Lee exhaled a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat off his relatively clean left sleeve.

"It doesn't seem to be breathing," Dante noticed, panicking as he approached the motionless calf. He touched it, stood up anxiously, and ran toward the toolbox.

He had learned there were ways to help a newborn recover in situations like this.

"Come on."

Grabbing an emergency injection, Dante hesitated before administering it.

Lee quickly knelt beside the calf, gently stroking its back to encourage it to breathe.

"Let me perform CPR," Lee said. Finding it ineffective, he quickly checked the calf's mouth.

Without access to proper tools, Lee had no choice but to clear the mucus from the calf's mouth manually.

After cleaning it, Lee slightly lifted the calf's head and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Each breath lasted about a second, providing ten to twelve artificial breaths per minute.

"That's enough…" Lee, much older and experienced, had his methods.

Dante, staring at the seemingly lifeless calf, threw the injection to the ground.

But before they could despair, the calf let out a weak cry and began to breathe heavily.

"Oh, God! Dante, ha, ha, ha... Lee wiped his mouth, helped the revived calf stand, and shrugged. "It worked, little brother."

The cow approached, gazing gratefully at Lee before weakly licking her newborn.

Fortunately, it was late spring. Though the nights were cool, the barn was warm enough for the calf, which didn't need extra heat.

"Well, we did a great job," Dante said, patting his head, looking surprised as if he hadn't expected his older brother to be so skilled.

He picked up the calf and took it to be weighed. Seeing the number on the scale, he exclaimed, "We've got another calf, 88 pounds! It's a healthy one."

Dante wanted to experience moments like these. While his behavior often seemed unusual, it was his way of coping with unexpected situations.

By connecting more with the ranch, he believed things would improve in the future, giving him a chance to form new perspectives.