By Clive Emery

Just another day in the life of a farmer - here’s a lovely story about Bobby - a calf that had to be hand reared. 

It was just a week since I had transferred all my cattle from the Blackhead area to the 'dam' paddock (so called because it was watered by an everlasting spring) constructed 45 years ago during one of the many 'dry' seasons the coast periodically experiences. The dam was situated below this eternal spring.

I had waited to do the transfer of the cattle until a matronly beast had calved, and having observed the event was over and a little calf at her side, the cattle were called to the gate and admitted into a new paddock. They had hardly entered before they began to graze on the lush fresh pasture. Returning home, I marked down the date of transfer: 10.12.1995.

On the morning of December 17, with breakfast over, I received a call from Vivienne Atkins of Gerroa to say that with the aid of her binoculars she could see a little black and white calf near Shelly Beach, and thought it could belong to me. I thanked her and said I would investigate at once, since I had recently transferred the cattle, and thought the calf could have slipped through the fence.

The dawn found me with the cattle, and noted the mother and calf, which was pleasing to all parties. However since Shelly Beach was a considerable way off and the lady had taken the trouble to ring, I felt a thorough investigation should be done. As I crested the ridge and Shelly Beach came into view, sure enough there I spotted a calf resting near the boundary fence under the shelter of a small tree. 

Hastening down I found a little bull calf well and strong, and upon examination I found it to be a twin! It was apparent the Mother had brought it to life that night after the first birth, and it had slipped under the fence. The two calves had been born 600 metres apart!  

Gathering the little fellow in my arms I carried him to the top of the hill to his mother. He could not have had any sustenance for seven days, and was indeed a hungry fellow. His mother was interested in him, but was not going to allow him to have a suck, and kicked him off each time he made an attempt to suckle her.

I tried with the two calves, but she would only take her first-born and not the second. It was frustrating for all concerned. It had rained during the seven days, and her 'smell' on the little one was not strong enough for her to admit ownership of him, which is not unusual.

I left them to become acquainted in peace, and would come over in the early morning, which is when mothers and babies usually suckle. It is a good time to be on hand to help.  However, the mother was still determined her second calf was not going to suckle her, and after half an hour with my help she consistently refused to cooperate.

Gathering the little fellow in my arms once more I placed him in my lorry and brought him home to rear. My wife Elva was not amused at all at us having the responsibility of another baby, but relented rather reluctantly. It was twenty-six years since I had done such a thing, of which she was aware.

'Bobby' I called him, and from the first moment he was an eager feeder, relishing the sweetened milk offered. I had an ideal shed for him in the back garden, and in a few days we became quite good friends, and it was not long before he recognised my voice and his own name, and would arise to welcome me immediately I called. While he fed he wagged his tail to demonstrate his enjoyment, and I massaged his back meanwhile, just as his mother would have done licking him, and he bunted the bucket just as he would if he was feeding from his mother.

After each meal we would go for a race among the shrubbery in the back garden, with me leading the way. At first I would not try to elude him, but I soon found he could keep pace with me, and we made a game of it. I began to dodge among the bushes and he would take short cuts and catch me up and bunt me.

As he grew stronger I changed his diet a little, and gradually encouraged him to eat grass and grain. I bought some calf pellets and introduced them to his diet by putting them in his mouth to chew, and after feeding time leave some in his bucket for later. 

Yesterday I caught Elva taking a peep at him over the fence and calling his name. She was pleased to see that Bobby was coming along so well.

In time he was released into the grass paddock to care for himself, but he would always raise his head if anyone said the word 'Bobby'.

I will miss him of course; he was so responsive, but one cannot go on racing about the garden like a madman, can one?