It had been a cold, wet winter and now, in August, it was supposed to be Spring. The only signs of Spring were the poor little lambs and calves, crouching, shivering, beside their mothers, for warmth and shelter. The rain and wind were still severe and the cold crept into your bones. Many of the paddocks were covered in slushy mud. A great many lambs had died and the new calves had to be good strong animals to survive.
Beth stood at the dining room window, looking out on the paddocks, waiting for her brother to come into sight. He had gone out earlier to look around the cows who were due to calve, and it was time for him to be returning. One of Beth’s pet cows was due to calve and she was worried about it in this weather. Just then she saw the horse and rider come into view. He rode up to the fence, and dropped down a wet, muddy object, before dismounting. Beth ran to the door to ask about her cow and what it was he had dropped outside.
“Your cow is alright, she hasn’t calved yet. That’s a calf from one of the heifers, and it’s almost dead. I’m taking it up to the shed to kill it.”
“Oh, the poor wee thing, please don’t do that, let me keep it. It might live”, pleaded Beth.
“No, it’s far too small and weak, and it’s premature and probably not fully developed weak, and it’s probably dead now”, replied her brother.
Beth waited until he had gone inside for a warm drink, and then, taking her oilskin coat, she went quietly outside, into the pouring rain. The wee calf was lying where it had been dropped, and looked dead already. Beth found it was still breathing, so she picked it up and carried it in to an old shed where they kept the grain and mash for the hens. Beth then raced over to one of the other sheds where some hay was stored and carried an armful back to the calf. She shook some out on it and then taking handfuls of hay she started to rub it dry. The calf was covered in mud and shivering. It would take a long time to clean it.
While Beth was working away her brother came out to get his horse and the calf. Finding the calf gone, he called Beth and tried to persuade her not to be silly, and give him back the calf. However Beth’s Dad appeared and said that she could keep it and try to save its life.
Dad stayed to help and at last the calf was as dry and warm as they could hope for. Beth then went inside and warmed some milk, putting plenty of sugar in it, and Dad added a little brandy. It was difficult to get it to the calf and she spent a long while getting feeding it at a time down its throat. At last Beth was satisfied that everything possible had been done, so covering it with sacks and some hay, she went back inside.
Later that evening Beth went out to see how it was and to give it another feed, and found to her delight that it had struggled into a proper sitting position. It was a little easier giving it its second drink and Beth felt that there was a wee bit of hope that it might live. Tucking it up warmly, she left it and went off to bed.
Early next morning, she rushed out to the shed and found the calf standing up. Wonderful! Beth was very thrilled. She stroked it gently as the calf was still very weak and wobbled as it tried to move.
Suddenly, to her horror, Beth caught sight of its tail. A rat had chewed some of the skin from that poor skinny little tail.
“Oh, you poor little thing; what a Misery you are”, she said; and that is how her new calf got its name.
Beth went and warmed Misery’s breakfast milk and was delighted when the calf sucked well and drank the whole bottle full. Beth then went to find her Dad. She wanted permission for Misery to sleep in a box on the verandah, at night. No more rats were going to bite her calf.
Beth was fortunate that this happened as school broke up for the holidays, which meant she had two whole weeks to devote to her new pet. Every time the rain eased, Beth put the tiny calf out on the lawn, to move around and gain strength in its thin little legs. She spent hours encouraging it to stagger a little further, and making sure it was warm and dry.
Misery became stronger each day and soon she was able to follow Beth up to the cow-shed for her feeds. As she was so small and weak, Beth was allowed to give her three feeds a day, instead of the usual two. Misery didn’t live in the calf pen with all the other calves either; she was a very special calf, so Beth continued to keep her at the house and at night she still slept in a big box on the verandah.
As Misery’s health improved, so did her coat, and Beth kept it brushed clean. Gradually flesh began to cover her bones, the tail healed, and Misery began to look more and more as a calf should. The weather also improved, and one day, when the sun was shining, Misery was out on the lawn, she suddenly tried to run and skip about. Beth was delighted to see her feeling so happy and wanting to play.
By the end of the holidays, Misery was well on the way to good health, and Beth was quite content to leave her in a pen that Dad made specially for her. Before school there was a trip to the shed for milk and a quick play, then Misery was shut up until Beth came home from school. As the calf was still very small and still not very strong, it was perhaps a good thing for her to be left quietly to sleep for most of the day. Beth’s Mother gave it the mid-day feed, so she was well cared for. After school, there was another walk to the shed for fresh milk and then a short period of grooming and companionship.
The days slipped by peacefully, and the calf grew steadily. She was still small, but was getting plump, and her coat grew soft and glossy. She was a pretty creamy-gold colour, with a patch of white on her forehead, a white streak running down her chest, wide out over her belly and down her back legs. Her two front feet, and the patch on her tail that the rat had chewed, were also white. Altogether, she showed signs of becoming a very pretty animal.