Well, the little calf has made it through his third day of life.
He now has some antibiotics in his system, and he seems to have improved a bit during the day. We made him a little pen in the backyard so he could sit in the sun and warm weather today. He did stand up and move around a little.
He's much too weak to take back to the farm, six miles from our house. And we couldn't keep Momma in the back yard, even if we were sure which cow she was. So they'll have to stay apart a little longer. We're hoping we can get him back to her while she'll still accept him. Every day, though, the chance of that goes down. We can bottle raise him ourselves if we have to, but we'd rather not.
He has so much swelling that he still has trouble breathing. And with the swollen lips and cheeks and the cut lower lip, he has a terrible time sucking a bottle. So far, he's only drinking two to three cups of milk at a time, about one-third the usual baby calf ration.
Tonight though, he acted hungry and actually drank a second helping. That's a good sign.
It's getting cool out, so I've bundled him up and bedded him down in the little shed. He acts very sick, very weak. Each breath takes work. He's still at risk. But he has all of you pulling for him.