Onion Head

Back when the kids were young, we received a call from a cousin in another county.   He requested to speak to one of the kids.  Soon a conversation was taking place that consisted, on my end, of  "Oh, that's bad", "She did?", "Poor little thing" and "Sure!  Sunday would be great!"  I made frantic signals to let me have the phone, but by then the hook was set and all the cousin had to do was reel us in.

It seems that one of his Hereford mama cows had presented him with twins.  One developed pneumonia a few days after birth.  To save the little one they, kept him in the barn for a few days so they could treat him.  During this time they fed him on a bottle.  However, when he was reunited with his mama, she evidently decided that one calf seemed to be the ideal number.  No amount of urging would change her mind.  The call was to see if our kids would take on the job of raising the calf on a bottle. 

Naturally, they said yes!

Sunday came and the cousin arrived with the tiny little calf in the back of his truck.  His soft red coat was crowned by the blazing white face of the Hereford breed.  He immediately became little Onion Head.  The kids fell into the job of being surrogate mother with a passion.  Soon the morning was beginning with two kids mixing calf starter (powdered milk) in my sink and rushing to the barn with the filled bottle.  Morning and night they fed the little red calf.  Soon he recognized their voices and would bawl loudly for them to hurry up! 

They created a home for the little mite in the corner of the barn with a couple of gates.  It wasn't long before they decided that he needed to be out in the sunshine.  I would watch out the kitchen window in amusement as the two kids, the little red calf, and assorted cats and dogs would trail around the yard.  I never did figure out if the calf thought it was a little people or a dog, but he played and jumped happily with both kids and dogs.  Soon they abandoned closing the gate to his pen and he wandered around the yard at will.  When he became tired he would head back to his pen for a nap.  Several times people drove up to the house to report that a calf had gotten out in the yard.  I would laugh and thank them while little Onion Head looked on cheerfully.

I did finally have to curtail some of his roaming, the morning that my daughter came back in the house to mix a little more milk for his bottle.  By now he was coming to the house each morning for his breakfast.  When she crossed the porch and entered the kitchen door, Onion Head followed her just like he had seen the dog do.  The next thing I knew, I heard little clomping footsteps crossing the kitchen floor.  He was waiting at the sink watching her mix his breakfast, when I declared that enough was enough.

We often had cattlemen come to the farm to look at our cattle or just shoot the breeze.  A friend had wandered in one afternoon to check out one of the show heifers and offer a little advice on feeding.  On his way out of the barn he walked by Onion Head napping in his little pen.  He detoured past his truck and came directly to the kitchen.  "You've got a problem with that little Hereford."  Seeing the seriousness of his look, I was glad the kids were gone for the afternoon.  "What do you mean?" I asked.  "He's sick, really sick.  I suspect he won't live much longer."

With a sinking heart I headed for the barn.  Little Onion Head was curled up listlessly in a nest of straw.  I sat down beside him and lifted his head into my lap.  He sighed and lay there looking up at me.  I stroked his soft red hair and murmured gentle words.  Sure enough, in a short while I felt his little chest rise, fall, and fail to rise again.  The vet arrived soon after and checked him over.  He said that when he had pneumonia as a baby, his lungs had scared and adhered to the chest wall.  Everything was fine until he grew enough to cause the chest to expand and the lung to rip free.  He bled to death.  It was unavoidable and unknowable.  That didn't make it easier. 

We still remember the little red Hereford that came to live on the Angus farm.