One of the important differences between cows on pasture and cows living in confinement is that cows on pasture must be counted constantly. They are brought into the barn from pasture. Huge amounts of hay and a bit of grain are served down their lane, they start eating, and as they eat they are counted. We are into fall calving season now. As each dry cow calves, the milk cows will rise in number from 20 to 36. Sunday morning I should have had 22 cows eating in the lane. I counted 21. So I counted them 3 more times, thinking surely I was mistaken.

All newly fresh cows, cows who have just calved, wear red plastic necklaces around their necks for quick identification. They are held back and milked last so their milk can be saved individually for their own calves. At this point I should have had 2 red chains, Dakota and Courtney. Dakota was there.

Missing a cow is not good. Missing a newly fresh cow made my blood run cold. Fresh dairy cows are susceptible to a condition called milk fever. So much calcium is going into their milk, they can't pull it from their bones fast enough to keep up with their own needs. The first symptom of milk fever is cold ears. If you see a fresh cow looking a little weird you feel their ears. If they are cold, you administer calcium. And you do it right away because milk fever can progress quickly and it can be fatal. Courtney was missing.

Still desperately hoping I was counting incorrectly, I went to find a flashlight, a halter, and our herd boss, Allison. It was 5:15 a.m. and black dark outside when I knocked on her door. Hearing a fresh cow was missing, she didn't even pause to change out of her pajamas or put on boots. We ran for the cart, turned off the pasture fence, and drove across the fields. I was still half-believing I'd made some silly mistake, Courtney was standing somewhere obvious, and I was actually apologizing for waking my boss when our light reflected eyes out in the darkness, silent pleading kind of eyes. I think we both felt a momentary flash of panic. Allison cried out Courtney's name.

We flew into action. Courtney was down and bloated. Milk fever could kill her but bloat might kill her faster. We had to get her head up and Allison knew just what to do. She had me push on Courtney's head while she haltered her and tied her head to her back hoof. It sounds awkward and painful and I'm sure it was, but Courtney was so bloated she was feet up and almost on her back. We had to keep her head higher than her stomachs to keep her from aspirating digestive fluid.

Approximately 90 seconds later I was sitting in the dark in a field on the downhill side of Courtney, doing my best to prop up her shoulder. Despite getting thrown off twice, I sat next to her and rubbed her neck and told her Allison was going to save her. I sang Amazing Grace to her several times in a low humming cowy kind of way. It was entirely possible she might die while we waited there. You can bet your ass, I was praying. Allison was getting medicine and supplies.

From the time Allison got back with all the tools we needed and more help on the way, everything moved very fast. We got a lot of mineral oil down Courtney's throat plus a calcium drench, and set an IV into her milk vein. Several bottles of calcium plus extra fluids were administered. With the arrival of the farm owners we had plenty of hands to help. Courtney was rolled almost all the way over to a more proper sitting position for a cow and propped up with a hay bale. Light was beginning to brighten the sky in the east. The milk cows were standing alone in the lane on the other side of the farm wondering what was going on. Allison was holding the IV needle, Courtney's owner was holding IV bottles at the proper height, and I was looking on. I reached down and loosened the halter across Courtney's nose. We were all calm. She knew, understood fully, we were helping her.

I left them all there and went to milk the cows. An hour later, as unbelievable as this sounds, Courtney walked herself across the farm, down the lane, and into the holding pen to be milked. She showed up right on time, joining Dakota as I was finishing up with other milkers. Bloat and milk fever are both mechanical issues. If corrected, the cows recover completely and almost instantly---usually. So it was with Courtney.

I, however, was wasted for the rest of the day. That afternoon I was almost too tired to walk myself across the level floor of the hardware store. She said she was going to rest, but I'm sure Allison worked the rest of the day and milked the cows last night. The adrenaline rush hit both of us, we both wrestled that cow in a field in the dark. But Allison did most of the heavy lifting while shouldering the burden for Courtney's life. She is an amazing woman. I'm lucky I get to work for her and I love my job. There is always so much to learn, each day is unique, and often filled with wonder. But it took a full day before I recovered enough energy to even type out this story. Whew.