One of the most difficult situations I often find myself in every time I travel upcountry, is that a cow will begin to birth when I have been left alone at home. It’s almost like the herd can tell how scary it is for me. A few months ago, I was refueling the chaffcutter and on turning around, two little hooves, enveloped in thick amniotic fluid were staring back at me. This was neither the first nor the last time this would happen. About a month later, we were woken up in the middle of the night by an unusual amount of activity in the shed. The rain was coming down hard, and one particularly extroverted heifer had taken upon herself the task of raising alarm. An older cow was delivering and we had to assist the process, in the rain and cold, with our sleepy heads. Oh, the joys of farming.