Every housewife has her favorites. It's the same for us—for some reason, each family member has chosen a favorite and gives them the most attention and care. But a few years ago, we bought a heifer, and everything changed. She completely charmed us, and no one was left indifferent—she was so smart. We never had any problems with her: the feeding trough was always clean, because she ate everything without picking it over or throwing it on the floor, and she had a calm, affectionate disposition.
It was hunting time, and we took our Lyubimka to the bull. All was well, we were waiting. The calf was born on time, but the umbilical cord broke right at the end, and it didn't survive. It was a shame, but what could we do? The cow's milk yield was a record for our herd, which was not only pleasing but also surprising.
The following year, Lyubimka's calving was eagerly awaited: they were interested in milk yield and wanted to get another heifer to breed this breed (was there even such a breed?). The calf was born large and beautiful. They named it "Zhdanka."
After calving, Lyubimka began to feel ill: she wasn't eating or drinking. We called the vet, who prescribed vitamins, assuming it was just fatigue and that she needed time to recover. We asked him, "Should I give her some antibiotics?"
- No need, nothing serious.
The same conversation happened two days later, when there was no improvement in the cow's condition. Only this time, the vet said the cow's stomach had "stopped working." They poured some wine on her, chased her around the yard, and she seemed to perk up. But not for long. Then the vet said, "There's no chance; donate her for slaughter before it's too late."
They called people who come and pick up animals. But Mom kept walking around the cow, asking, "Darling, give me a sign so I don't give you up. Will you get better, darling?"
While I went to get some water to give the skinny one a drink, she "went pooping," even though she hadn't had a bowel movement for two days! And she kept moaning to her mother, as if she wanted to say something... Her owner took this as a sign and burst into tears of joy.
And then the very same people who had come for the cow and the veterinarian appeared on the doorstep... Once again, the vet tried to convince us that the animal wouldn't survive long, that we all just wanted her to stay and get better, but the cow would die and that would be it. They took our beloved one away.
That evening, they called and said she had advanced endometriosis, not a fatal disease. A shock dose of antibiotics would have saved our beloved cow. So, relying on the experience and opinion of a specialist, we killed our cow.
Zhdanka is all grown up now and will soon be a mother herself. We're very worried, but we're hoping for the best.
It's probably not endometriosis, but endometritis. But that's just an aside. It doesn't change the essence. It's a common occurrence in cows after calving: it occurs in 15% of cases after normal births, 30% after complicated births, and 95% after pathological births. No one knows how postpartum endometritis would progress and how it would be treated in your heifer. It would be a good idea for a veterinarian to take a sample from the genital tract for bacterial culture and begin treatment based on the bacterial strains detected. However, few veterinarians do this due to the lack of a laboratory. Therefore, they prescribe broad-spectrum antibiotics. But what if the endometritis is caused not by bacteria, but by fungi? Antibiotics are useless in this case. Antifungal therapy will be needed, and antibiotic use will only worsen the situation.
Therefore, in your current circumstances, selling the cow for meat is the best option. The animal won't suffer, and you won't lose money, as treatment is expensive. Moreover, even after such treatment (if unsuccessful), you wouldn't be able to sell the cow's meat.
Sorry, but it's ENDOMETRITIS! It's simply inflammation of the uterus. That's why the cow's genital tract smelled; everything there was rotting. Regardless, there was a chance to save our wet nurse. Due to the veterinarian's poor professional conduct, that didn't happen.
At first, we were offended and angry at him. But now we understand that we did the right thing at that moment.
Your article brought me to tears... Yes, sometimes veterinarians don't love their job, but there's nothing you can do about it. We also had a vet who forced us to slaughter a cow, but it later turned out to be just an infection. After that, we always go to a different vet. True, we have to pay extra because they travel a long way. But at least they're experienced and love animals. And they offer free phone consultations.
Poor little cow! I feel so sorry for her!