06/13/2026
Our Mila 💗
Mila short for Milagro (miracle)
Sunday we had a storm. 3.5” of rain in 2hrs. And if a cow is about to have a calf, that’s almost certainly when it tends to happen. When it shouldn’t.
That much water that fast caused some pasture flooding and some roads to be covered.
This first time mama took off for high ground with the rest of the herd leaving a little white bundle behind.
Thank goodness she was white (she was supposed to be a black angus) so a friend driving by saw her form the flooded road.
A few minutes later, that little, white, soaking wet, shivering bundle was on my porch. A teeny little heifer calf. Our first heifer born here in 4 years.
Dried off and put back in the pick up to warm up while a little girl stroked her head and sang to her. Waiting for the storm to pass so she could go back to mama.
It seemed like mama knew who she was and we waited and watched for her to nurse. Sigh of relief. She had her colostrum. They would be fine. We would of course check her a few more times that day to make sure, but all was well.
But it wasn’t. She kept wandering off. What on earth she was looking for I can’t imagine. But she was a little explorer. And got herself quite scratched up by barbed wire. The biggest gouge going down her spine from her shoulders to the middle of her back. She earned herself an ATV ride uo to the working pens to keep her contained but mama proved difficult to catch. So we tried again to out her out with mama. And she had to be put back again and again.
Then she disappeared.
Tuesday morning I saw her with mama but every check after that she was nowhere to be found.
Hiking through woods and following tracks.
Finally we penned mama in hopes she would call baby out of the trees for us to see. She didn’t call. Baby didn’t come. 48 hours not seeing her. 24 hours of mama penned up.
We decided to try one last search. The caves, the rocks, the gullies, the creek….
We got a group together, and even a trainer with a tracking dog.
For hours. A trail of tiny hoof prints and then….no trace. It was time to call it. She was gone.
“No mama we can’t give up. She’s alive.”
No way. There was nowhere left for her to be.
I cried in bed that night. And as I fell asleep I thought the prayer “I know it’s impossible but I just wish she could show up next to the fence in the morning looking for mama…..” and fell asleep with a picture of her walking down the fence to me. Knowing it could not ever happen.
72 hours of no siting. 48 hours of mama penned up. 90-95 degrees and 70% humidity of suffocating heat the whole time.
One of the littles woke up earlier than normal and fussy so I took him outside for a walk to keep the others asleep. When I can around the corner of the house….she was standing there. Next to the fence. Like I pictured. Like I asked.
Except….except not a starved, weak, dehydrated, cut up mess. A perfectly healthy miracle plopped right there for me to find in pristine condition??
She was strong enough to be a trick to catch. Strong enough to pull me back when I was trying to lead her to the gate. And unfortunately still independent to à fault. When put back with mama, no matter how hard mama tried, she would not nurse. She just headed for the far coroner of the fence to push through and leave again.
Decided to use a trailer as her temporary stall. Her and a buddy calf to try to get her bonded to quit leaving. And while normally I dread a bottle baby, I found myself very excited to baby our little miracle.
Miracle? Yes. She was in perfect health. Full belly. Hydrated and using the bathroom. Talking. Walking. Sniffing. Exploring. And. Even her cuts were gone. Not only did He plop her down next to the fence for me from who knows where, but in *perfect* health? Made us question for a moment if she was even the same calf. But her mama certainly thought she was.
Spent the morning soaking in the bliss of having her back and never wanting to leave that trailer. As if, if I looked away the dream would vanish and the ghost would be gone.
I had planned to sell her. But how can you sell………that?
She’s staying. Ours forever. Our Mila.
