Page 53 of A Country Practice Christmas
‘We knew there were risks having a heifer in calf, but we’ve treated her like a princess.’ Benedict grimaces. ‘Old Bess came with the farm, but we splashed out on Belle. We hoped she’d be the foundation cow of our own Angus herd. She has a good pedigree and so did the bull we put the girls to.’
‘Can we bring Belle into the crush so I can examine her?’
‘Isn’t it all over?’ Benedict says. ‘I don’t want to add to her trauma.’
‘She doesn’t like the crush,’ Milly says. ‘We don’t want to make things even worse.’
‘I wouldn’t put her through this if I didn’t think it’d be worthwhile.’
‘Do you think the calf was stillborn?’
‘It’s possible, but he’s a good size. No obvious deformities.’
‘Poor Belle, she’s got milk but no calf.’ Benedict lowers his voice. ‘Milly lost a baby. It was early days, only six weeks, but after years of trying, it hit her hard.’
‘I’m so sorry that happened.’
‘Our little farm helps with the grief.’ His smile is gentle. ‘Animals and fresh air are good for the soul.’
After separating Belle from Bess and the calf, we herd her into the pen and beyond that, the crush. The facilities here aren’t what you’d find in a large-scale operation, but once Belle is trapped in the narrow corridor of railings and Benedict slams a gate behind her, it’s possible to climb to the second rung and lean over her. Benedict, on the other side of the railing, pulls Belle’s tail out of the way.
‘You said it was the same bull for Bess and Belle,’ I say. ‘How long was he here?’
‘It was one of Cam McLeod’s bulls.’ Milly is at Belle’s head now, shushing her bellows. ‘Is she in pain?’
‘She’s frightened because I’m examining her and she wants to be with Bess.’ I’m in up to my elbow now. ‘The bull, Milly, how long?’
‘We called him Mr Bullocks, didn’t we, Benedict? I wonder if that stuck?’
‘The look on Cameron’s face!’ Benedict smiles. ‘He was here for around eight weeks, enough time to give the girls two seasons. Cam assured us it was less stressful that way. From what we could see, Mr Bullocks was a gentleman and both girls took a shine to him.’
I’m not surprised at what I find, but it’s a relief all the same. ‘Belle hasn’t had her calf yet.’
‘What?’ Benedict blinks. ‘That can’t be right.’
I jump from the railing. ‘Let’s put her back in the paddock with Bess and then I’ll explain.’
As we walk to the ute, I take Milly and Benedict through the most likely scenarios. ‘Bess had twins. Her labour might have been difficult and only one calf survived. Even if there were two live births, she might have judged that one calf, possibly the first to stand and drink, was more likely to survive and abandoned the second. Or maybe the twin didn’t get up in time and Bess wasn’t close enough to protect him.’
‘Bess had one speckled calf and one black calf …’ Milly sniffs. ‘Poor little black calf, left all alone.’
‘We can’t blame Bess,’ Benedict says.
‘If we’d found the calf before it was attacked,’ Milly asks, ‘could we have saved it?’
‘Bess might have accepted it eventually, or it might have been possible to hand rear it.’
When I open the ute’s back door, Keith Urban runs around in circles before following us into the house. Milly opens a door off the hallway. ‘Would you like to wash up here?’
In the bathroom, three of the walls are blue and one is silver.
‘The sky and moon,’ Milly explains. ‘I’ll brew the tea. Come to the verandah when you’re done.’
Milly and Benedict’s dining room is a rainbow, chairs of different colours and vividly striped walls. In the sitting room, blue and yellow furnishings are complemented by a beach mural.
Benedict stands and pulls out a chair. ‘Elderberry tea for our saviour.’
As I sit down, a cramp bites low in my abdomen. ‘I didn’t do anything.’
