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Fine. Isobel would just attach the chain one handed. How hard could it be?
Turned out it was hard. Very hard.
The latch for the little cuff was almost impossible to do one handed. Especially with the plastic glove on. With her hand all the way up inside the cow, she couldn’t see what was going on either. She ended up shoving both hands inside the cow and quickly latching one of the chains around the first hoof, then stumbling along behind the cow before yanking out and grabbing the gate to push the cow back into position.
Then she repeated the process with the second cuff.
Finally, finally, she had both cuffs in place. She was soaked in sweat and cow muck. A cow’s back end was not the most sanitary place, suffice to say. Not to mention, she couldn’t tell how many times she’d been smacked in the face by the cow’s swatting tail. A tail that was coated in manure.
But she had the chains on, goddammit, and this calf was coming out, come hell or high water. She attached the chains to the calf puller, a long flat metal shelf she braced behind the heifer’s hips for traction. It worked similar to a car jack. She started cranking the lever that gave her torque to pull the calf out by the chains on the hooves.
Isobel only got a couple good pumps in before the cow started heading sideways, pushing against the gate again. But dammit, Isobel was done with it. So beyond done. She was getting the damn calf out.
So she didn’t stop gripping the calf jack. She dug her feet in and pulled until she felt the veins in her neck straining.
And then was yanked off her feet by the cow starting forward again. She stumbled forward after the cow.
“Dammit, keep still,” Isobel shouted, digging her feet again when the cow came to a standstill. She strained, leaning backward, and thought she felt some give as the calf shifted. She reached forward to massage around the cow’s opening to help ease the calf’s way. The hooves and front nose were peeking out now. Okay, now to just crank it a few more times and—
But before she could get in position, the damn cow darted forward again. Isobel wasn’t about to let go of the calf puller. The heifer was booking it though and—
Shit!
Isobel was yanked off her feet. The heifer started dragging her along behind it. Ugh! Oh. Fuck. Gross. They were halfway across the paddock before Bessie stopped. Meanwhile Isobel had been on a chest-first slip and slide through the mud and shit filled barn yard. Isobel spit out a clod of what she could only pray was mud as she got to her feet and grabbed hold of the calf jack.
“Stop fucking with me, Bessie!” Isobel jammed her heels in the mud, solidified her grip on the handle and then started pulling the lever and maneuvering the jack and then pulling some more.
Out came the calf’s head. The jack’s lever was so taut she could barely get it to move. She managed one more crank and then she just pulled with everything she had. More than everything she had. She gave a primal scream as she yanked and pulled and strained, and then when she had no more to give, she yanked some more.
Oh God, oh God. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t have any more in her.
No, dammit. Just a little more. A little more!
She started sliding in the mud as the fucking cow started forward again. But Isobel kept her feet dug in and just kept pulling.
Then the chains she was holding suddenly gave all at once and before she knew what was happening, Isobel was on her ass in the mud and a baby calf was on the ground beside her, afterbirth landing all over both of them.
Isobel started laughing in euphoria. She wanted to hug the little calf. She’d done it. She’d actually done it!
The mother cow turned around and immediately started licking the little calf. It was lifting its little head and nosing back at its mom.
Isobel was still grinning as she shook her head and then undid the chains around the calf’s front hoofs. She crawled and checked underneath. It was a girl. She laughed then sat back on her haunches. But only for a second before scrambling to her feet and reaching back inside the cow to make sure all the afterbirth was cleaned out. It was.
She stepped back, grinning at the mama and baby cow. She’d done it. Her first ever solo calving.
It was only then that she heard the laughing.
She swung around and saw Hunter doubled over, laughing so hard he was actually slapping his knee.
Her mouth dropped open. And then closed, her teeth clenching. She leaned over and grabbed the calving chains and puller, then stalked back toward the gate.
Hunter was still laughing, actually wheezing from laughing so hard as she opened the gate and slammed it behind her.
“I saw a spigot and hose on the back side of the barn,” he managed to get out, wiping his eyes with amusement. “Better hose down along with the tools. You’re a bit too ripe to get back in my truck like that.”
She glared at him. In all likelihood, she had a warrant out on her for attempted murder in one state.
Why not make it two?
