02/01/2025
MooMoo - A tale of cows and surprises - and our first video post... (hopefully somewhat viewable and readable)
2023 July
We became the owners of a beautiful Droughtmaster "heifer", a young female cow who hasn't yet given birth.
She had jumped the fence for a liaison with a bull and her owner didn't want to send a pregnant cow to the meat works, hence her move to our farm.
MooMoo
Big from the start, belting out the loudest "Mooooo" in the paddock, so I named her MooMoo.
The countdown to the delivery began.
December
Her liaison was in Feb-Mar, cow pregnancies are 9 months, like humans, any day now enormous MooMoo should be giving birth, we thought.
2024 Jan to Mar
Still no calf, we were having doubts but MooMoo still looked pregnant
April
We asked MooMoo: "Are you really pregnant or are you just a fat cow??"... not normally something you'd ask a lady.
May-June
Consensus reached; MooMoo had not showed any signs of having been on heat, or interest in the bulls.
Our beautiful le***an friends visited, with humour and love MooMoo was dubbed our "fat, barren, le***an cow". And the boys speculated on the number of steaks on the BBQ.
July 1st
Mike: "Check out MooMoo's va**na"..
This is a normal way to check for signs of early labour, called "springing".
Me: "Been doing that for months. Have given up".
But sure enough, MooMoo's 'lady parts' had doubled in size! Could barely believe it, MooMoo wasn't barren after all!
Quick fencing change to keep her nearby.
Jul 5th
Mike recognised active labour, on a cold, rainy morning so he cleared out an old shed in case shelter was required.
The day turned stormy - rain and wind lashed the farm. MooMoo grew increasingly restless, her tail high up in the air, a pale-pink sack was expelled which she ate whilst I Googled if that was normal. It was.
Late afternoon MooMoo not happy with onlookers (cows and humans), she got up and the earlier born legs disappeared back inside her whilst she moved to the back of the house.
Not long before sunset a seemingly small blob appeared behind MooMoo, it moved, what a relief.
Licking and nudging her newborn obsessively, the calf nearly disappeared under the fence and towards the downhill slope so Mike picked up and moved the wet, slippery and shivering animal to the shelter. MooMoo looked on puzzled until the 50kg baby boy bleated and she came running after.
He needed some guiding towards the udder for his first meal of colostrum.
Storm, so named by a friend considering the weather at the time of birth. The name stuck.
Watching MooMoo's transform into a capable and protective mother was incredible. If they ever strayed apart, one bleat from Storm sent her galloping to his side.
Obviously MooMoo must have conceived after she arrived at our farm. Storm's darkish coat initially indicated his father to be the neighbour's Brahman Bull.
But as he grew, his brown coat began to show white markings. From a ridge on his back, a circle around his bum and eyes, eventually his coat changed to a light cream.
Turns out the father wasn't the Brahman but a visiting Blonde d'Aquitaine who'd been at the neighbours 'servicing the ladies' (or whatever the term is).
Honey
In the same month, July 2024, we took in a young Brown Swiss heifer from a struggling farm. She was malnourished but very used to human handling.
She perked up after supplement feeding with hay and molasses, and a worming treatment.
2025 Jan
Storm is now 6 months old and nearly half the size of his mum, and is showing signs of wanting to jump the ladies.
This means that this month we will need to separate him from MooMoo to prevent inbreeding.
She will mourn his absence for a few days until her milk dries up. Then life will return to grazing and hanging with her herd.
Storm will be joined by Honey and four new young heifers in his own paddock, ready to carry on the cycle of life.
Laurette's reflections
If you're still with me reading this epistle, you may be interested in my journey from being a vegetarian for many years, to stepping into the world of farming beef cattle.
It felt like a contradiction for so long. I mean, here I am caring for MooMoo and Storm with the knowledge that one day they, or their offspring, may end up on someone's plate.
However, raising cattle on pasture reminds me how connected we are to the land and the animals we share it with. We can ensure their time here is as good as can be, with access to plenty of space, ample grazing, shelter and kind handling.
This, I've learned, is the essence of ethical farming: while the animals may serve a purpose, maintaining a respectful, compassionate relationship with them is important and to us their quality of life matters deeply.
