PRESSED BETWEEN THE PAGES
DeAnn (Wolkow) Kruempel
Heartbreak & Miracles
Growing up on the farm in the 1950s and 60s meant being around animals. Daily responsibilities required caring for cattle, hogs, sheep and chickens. For years we milked a cow. A dog and barn cats did their part in protecting the farm and animals.
Dad, Donald and Delmer shouldered the main jobs for large livestock care, while Deloris, Darlene, Dorothy and I helped Mom with gathering eggs and caring for the chickens. In the summer, the older girls padded barefoot to the far pasture to bring home the milk cow. When extra help was needed for catching or moving livestock, or for emergency situations, every one of us stepped up.
All those animals around us meant that every so often a creature needed to be rescued. Baby calves were born outside on the coldest late winter nights. In spite of watchful farmers, it never failed that a heifer showed no signs, yet chose the worst time and place to produce her firstborn. Chilled and barely alive, the tiny calf needed immediate attention. A warmup near the wood stove in the kitchen along with a brisk rubdown with a rough gunny sack sometimes brought the little one around.
Once in a while baby hogs and sheep came into the world with health issues. Occasionally one was injured by the mother or pushed away from the milk bar by tougher siblings. Sometimes a runt piglet required tender loving care. There was once a just hatched baby chick that had to have foot therapy before she could stand.
I recall times when a mother cow didn’t claim her calf. Rex was called into the barn for assistance. Dad had read that seeing a dog, which I assume Momma Cow perceived as a threat, sometimes inspired her to protect and claim her offspring. If the plan failed, the kids in the family assumed bottle feeding duty, which was needed every few hours the first days. We learned the critical value of colostrum before we were old enough to go to school.
Even wild animals sometimes came within our care when accidents or Mother Nature dealt harsh blows. Dad rescued young pheasants that were nearly frozen. A gradual warmup in the basement was all they needed. He brought home nests of duck eggs when the mother was killed. A setting banty hen gladly kept those eggs warm until hatch-time. Her astonished cackling the first time her babies hopped into the water pan was story fodder for years!
A tiny rabbit, rescued from instinct-driven jaws or a naked baby robin whose nest could not withstand the South Dakota wind were given place of honor in a soft, rag-lined shoebox.
Pressed Between the Pages of my mind are our Mom’s gentle words: “Sometimes these little creatures don’t make it.”
In their parental wisdom, Mom and Dad appreciated and shared our compassion for animals. They understood and often helped with our efforts to save them. Whether our hearts were broken or we learned to believe in miracles, our parents realized such experiences prepared us for life.
Growing up on the farm with animals offered invaluable life lessons. We learned the merits of hard work. We learned responsibility, resilience and compassion. We learned that sometimes life did not turn out the way we wanted, but when it did, we rejoiced with the angels.
Maybe the most important lesson of all: we learned that no matter what, we had to try.
The author’s ten books are available on Amazon. Signed copies may be purchased at the Harrison County Welcome Center. Contact Kruempel at deannkruempelauthor@gmail.com.
