By Alex Kincaid

BSU JOURNALISM AT THE FAIR

The crowd stood speechless under a string of lights in the livestock nursery Friday night in awe as Cookie delivered a 90-pound bull after a long and somewhat difficult delivery at the Indiana State Fair.

After five hours from start to finish, which is longer than a typical delivery for cows, and the use of obstetrical chains to pull the larger-than-normal-sized calf out of the mother, Cookie finally delivered around 8:30 p.m.

“Usually, they’re not that dramatic,” said Rich Knebel Sr., the man in charge of the calving center/livestock nursery at the fair.

Cookie had exhibited signs of labor all day. She had a full, firm udder, and her tail had started to rise in the air. People had come and gone for the entirety of the day, and as her delivery grew nearer, the crowd grew larger.

This livestock nursery and calving center has been a part of the state fair since 1997, or 17 years, said Bobbi Bates, who is the special events and entertainment coordinator at the Indiana State Fairgrounds.

“Where else can you see that?” said Bates. “It’s been so popular that we’ve just kept it around.”

Cookie didn’t seem quite as restless as most soon-to-be mothers, and she continued to eat, which is unusual. However, Knebel Sr. believed that she would have a normal delivery.

As the clock ticked, nothing seemed to change, and after many hours the Knebel family began to wonder if they should go ahead and help her with the delivery—which generally needs to be done anyway, even for quick and easy deliveries.

Cows who don’t deliver in a timely manner risk having a stillborn calf, yet delivering before the mother is naturally dilated enough to proceed can also pose problems.

“We try to take all the risks out of it we can,” Knebel Sr. said.

Experience, explained Richie Knebel, son of Knebel Sr., is truly the only way to know when you’ve waited long enough and need to step in and help the mother. Knebel Jr. grew up on a dairy farm with around 70 cows; he has been exposed to the birthing process of these animals his entire life. The same is true for Knebel Sr., who has also been doing this for his 72-year lifetime.

Nor was it Cookie’s first delivery; she had delivered three calves before. So it was troubling to both the Knebel family and the crowd as to why this delivery wasn’t going smoothly.

After feeling for the calf, the Knebels discovered it was in the right position. Its head was slightly to the right, but that would not be an issue when Cookie began having contractions and it straightened itself out.

“Usually when we palpate them, they get stimulated a little bit—but she decided to eat hay,” Knebel Sr. said with a shake of his head.

By 7:20 p.m. the crowd had increased to approximately 75 people. Cookie continued to be uncooperative, delaying her labor and bellowing loudly. It isn’t typical for a cow to make a lot of noise when delivering, and it was soon discovered her reason for making such a fuss was the calves in the pens beside her.

“Sometimes if they’re getting ready to have a calf, and they see a calf on the ground, they’ll think that’s theirs,” Knebel Sr. explained.

Her distraction halted her delivery for a while. After multiple conversations with the anxious crowd that had grown to more than 100 people, it was finally decided that Cookie needed some assistance, or both her baby’s life and her own could be compromised.

“We may have one hell of a pull, but we’re gonna get it out,” Knebel Sr. said.

With the help of the “extra muscle” that was called in to assist with Cookie’s delivery, four men and Cole, the 13-year-old grandson of Knebel Sr., were able to pull the calf out while Cookie was secured in the milking stall standing up. Standing isn’t an ideal position in which to give birth; it is possible—just not easy.

After attaching the chains and also holding Cookie in place, followed by multiple strains to free the calf, the men with a grip on the chains finally reached that one dramatic, final pull that allowed the baby to slide right out.

“Woah—that’s a big calf,” said 12-year-old Schyler Knebel, grandson of Knebel Sr., before the calf even touched the ground.

The anxious individuals in the crowd who had been holding their breath in anguish released their tension in that moment and smiled as they applauded for the newborn and her strong mother.

The Knebel family began to scurry about, quickly clearing the nose and mouth of the newborn and using a resuscitator to pump air into its lungs. Richie began thumping the front left leg forcefully against the chest to help it become more enlivened and to get its heart going steadily.

When the calf proved to be in good shape, Knebel Sr. declared to the crowd that the calf was rather large and at first had a faint, slightly elevated heart rate. The calf’s heart soon steadied, however, and on Saturday was reported to be beating just fine.

After they were sure they had done all they needed to do for the calf, two men lifted him up by his limbs, his limp body swaying, and began to move him into the pen with his mother. Cookie instinctively began to clean her baby—which stimulates pheromones in the calf, explained Schyler. These pheromones will help the calf grow stronger.

“She’s a good mother,” said Tina Knebel, the wife of Richie and mother of Cole and Schyler. “She’s doing her job just like she’s supposed to.”

Knebel Sr. believed that Cookie had scar tissue from a previous birth that was making this birth more difficult for her. When they felt around for the calf before delivery, they didn’t realize how dilated she was because the scar tissue was in the way.

“They’re not all like that — thank God!” Knebel Sr. said.

The crowd stood mostly silent as they admired the newborn. The little bull stared back at the crowd, eyes wide as his mother continued to clean him. No one said much, and each member of the crowd wore a smile. No one pushed in front to get a better look any longer but were content with the view they had.

The baby calf lay with his head propped up on a pile of golden hay, his mother leaned over him attentively, and the Knebel family stood behind the pen gazing at the newborn bull. The pen glowed from the lighting overhead, which contrasted with the darkening sky outside.

“It was a pretty great experience,” said a member of the taken-aback crowd, Alyssa DeWitt.

The crowd dispersed little by little as Cookie tended to her newborn. A few stragglers didn’t budge and stared at the calf a bit longer.

“It’s a miracle everyday,” Rose Fields said.

After witnessing the struggle it took to deliver the baby and how much effort, cooperation and strength it took from the Knebel family and their friends to help, one felt a shared respect for this birth that had brought a group of strangers together for a moment in their fast-paced lives.

“The delivery, the miracle of life, we call it, is an education,” Knebel Sr. said. “It’s the beginning of life. We kind of value that more in cattle than we do in humans.”