Lazarus lost his fight this morning.
We knew he was in trouble yesterday and we spent much of the day doing everything possible to help him. He started scouring (that’s a farmer word for massive diarrhea), and we couldn’t stop it.
Calves have little in the way of reserves when they are normal. Lazarus had suffered an illness at about four days old, combined with frostbite to both feet, the loss of a hoof, and it was all just too much for him.
We treated the scouring, but long experience with this has taught us that the best treatment for scours is electrolyte solution to replace the fluids lost (calves die from dehydration), that antibiotics do little to nothing to help. We tried them anyway and I gave him bottle after bottle of electrolyte solution.
It all looked pretty good right up until bedtime last night when he just gave up. I knew he had. I know what it’s like when you’re fighting a losing battle. We’ve done it before.
Dave put him down this morning. The poor little guy had suffered enough.
We’re going to take a hiatus from calf-rearing. We’ve currently got six and we’ll be getting no more in the near future. We’ve had all the death we can take for now.