Vale Ophelia!

BY Ayesha Joy Clifford ©

IT'S a sad day on our farm today as our Jersey house cow Ophelia died overnight.

Despite a final jump up and trot around in which we thought she was on the mend, it seems there were heart issues we didn't know about.

Now I have heart issues of my own that I certainly do know about.

Some animals make their way into your life and your heart.

Often for me it's not the big and the beautiful that stand out. I have a soft spot for the quirky and the funny.

For a little ex-dairy cow adopted as a housewarming and Valentine's Day present seven years ago, our fair Ophelia led an eventful life.

She and her best friend Abbie did look a little out of place on our 24,000 acre Brigalow property dotted with giant Charbray-cross cattle, but what she lacked in stature, she more  than made up in fighting and kicking spirit, claiming the 350-acre house yard and everything in it - including us - as her own.

Packing off our cattle for the interstate move, the B-Double drivers were instructed to look after the MICs - Most Important Cows - on board.

She did perform a spectacular high jump and ungainly float and swim at the Gracemere Saleyards tick dip before claiming our new property as her domain,  often whimsically kicking up her spindly little Jersey legs and jumping and running for no reason apparent to us except perhaps play or joy.

Many shared moments of Jersey hilarity and gaiety later, we are grateful for having shared the journey with her and for her fostering and ministering to many calves and cows who passed through our house/hospital paddock that she quickly took under her care.

She had left us with so many happy memories, heavy hearts today and a little orphan heifer as feisty and spirited as her.

Hope cow heaven is full of pumpkins and grain treats girl.

Vale Ophelia!

The Cow Whisperer, The Mayor & The Vet

BY AYESHA JOY CLIFFORD ©

GOOD Morning Spring Sunday in the country.

You are lovely. But wait … What’s that? What is she doing up there lying on her side, legs kicked out?

Legs up or out is never a good look. It’s especially not a good look when it’s your  favourite house cow, especially at 6am the Sunday after election.

Coffee going cold and lazy Sunday visions vanishing into the spring haze, we phone the local vet.

With my husband occupied doing the cow equivalent of hand-holding – shoulder wedged firmly to keep the patient in an upright position, help is on the way.

Some people wait longer at hospitals than we did for the vet to arrive and administer a swift IV in the neck to treat the Jersey house cow Ophelia for milk fever.

As he leaps into his car and disappears down the drive at 8am he already he has a couple more callouts to attend and an urgent surgery consult for ten pups born overnight.

Just another day on-call for the country town vet who aside from animal duties and being dubbed The Cow Whisperer by me, also wears the caps of Mayor and Councillor.

Well perhaps The Cow Whisperer is a tad poetic. I had detected a few colourful phrases on occasion. That’s to be expected when you’re trying to convince hundreds of kilo of cranky cow to be more obliging.

He didn’t say a thing last time I forgot to slide shut the gate on the race and treated cow athletically launched herself over the bonnet of his car and hoofed it back to her paddock after her prolapse surgery. All in a day’s work.

“I’d love to have a farm and work with animals,” is one of the most common responses I hear from people.

I often wonder if they really would.

Animals don’t pick a convenient time to get sick or need attention.

There is no pause button. There is a never-ending parade of ailments and activities requiring attention – more often than not “now” – ready or not.

What a blessing to have dedicated professionals multi-tasking on our side and willing to go the extra (literally) country mile to help care for us and our animals.

Thanks Ross The Mayor, The Vet and The Cow Whisperer -  you’re a legend!