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Back in May, I mentioned a calf “as big as two calves” was born on my parents farm but wasn’t doing so well. I thought you might like an update on the calf’s progress. Whenever this particular calf is mentioned, my mother says “Lazarus!” and throws her eyes up to heaven. So that’s what he is known as now.
Lazarus didn’t stand up after he was born. And he didn’t feed properly either. My parents thought he might have been injured during the birth because of his size. But there were no obvious signs of injury and no explanation for his lack of movement or feeding.
The mother cow tried to coax Lazarus to feed but he just lay on the ground and didn’t respond to her. After a first bottle feed didn’t go so well, my father had to resort to “tube feeding” the calf. A tube is inserted down the calf’s throat directly into his stomach and the milk is poured slowly in. This really is a last resort when it comes to feeding. It is traumatic and dangerous for the calf and the farmer doesn’t enjoy it either! Lazarus had to undergo a number of tube feeds just to keep him alive in those early days. Meanwhile, my mother was sprinkling him with holy water and (she has just admitted) she put some in his milk too!
When Lazarus was 3 days old and there was no change in his situation, both my parents thought the end was nigh and they were beginning to accept that Lazarus would not survive. Remember, at this stage he hadn’t stood up or fed by himself and he should have done both within half an hour of his birth.
During the 3rd day, my mother walked into the shed and Lazarus was standing up. She stood watching as the mother cow moved over and positioned herself at the best angle for Lazarus to feed. Eventually he figured out what he should be doing and began to feed naturally from his mother. My father got the phone call he didn’t think he would get, telling him the calf was walking and feeding.
So as I write this today, both Lazarus and his mother are out wandering around a field in the west of Ireland, enjoying the summer rain and wet juicy green grass.
A miracle!


Glad Lazarus has surprised you all and survived.
I especially like the second picture.
I have discovered its very hard to photograph a calf who doesn’t want to be photographed!
I am so glad to hear about Lazarus! What a great story! I love that your mom was using Holy Water in his milk too. He has the perfect name.
I think my mother was fit to hit him with the holy water bottle by the time he finally got moving….you know, in a “You took your time didn’t you?” kind of way!!
Hahaha!
I am so glad the enormous baby cow is doing well!
There’s a lot of people feel the same way too!!
Lazarus gives new meaning to the expression “holy cow”!!
You said it!
Sweet story of the best kind of outcome.
I know, maybe I should have done the whole “Happily ever after” bit at the end. Or would that have been overdoing it?
Wonderful story and wonderful ending! I’m thinking it’s the holy water…
For sure.
He was taking his sweet time getting his legs under him, wasn’t he? Apparently he was meant to be.
Yes. Who could have guessed he could sit that long and still be perfect afterwards?!
Could we trade places for a week? We are sweltering here in Michigan, and your prose and photos look so cool and refreshing.
Oh I would swop without a second thought. We’ve had constant rain here – great weather for ducks as they say. Not so good for pasty faced irish people though!
There’s a commercial here that says Happy Cows live in California…but from your pictures of Lazarus…I’d say Happy Cows live in Ireland.
Happy farmers too in this case.
I think all cows might want to live like Lazarus. The atmosphere and the care sound better than some vacations
Glad all is well Ellie!
Ah my mother always says my father didn’t attend the birth of any of his 8 children, or get involved in any baby rearing. But all his animals got his undivided attention. ;D
YAY Lazarus!! Look how green it is!!!
We’re not short of green this summer. Its been raining most of the time. The cows like it anyway.
Thanks for popping over. What a great story. Well, he’s called Lazarus for a reason. I have to say I spat my wine out at the Holy Water pieces. I thought my family were the only ones who still did that!
Ever thought of trying to turn that wine into holy water?!