Nobody could have loved a cow more than I loved my Cricket. I watched her being born, and she was my milk cow for 13 years, the nicest cow I've ever known, but when she prolapsed, it was over. I cleaned it up and pushed it back in the first time and a handy neighbor came over and stitched her up, but it only held for a month. I was going to retire her and just love her for however long she was with me, but when the stitches popped and she prolapsed again, I could see no HUMANE way forward with her. The stitching procedure was traumatic for her, and I knew eventually we'd run out of fresh skin. I even consulted with the vet, such as she is, and she said there was nothing she could do that hadn't already been done and suggested putting her down, so my wonderful neighbor loaded her up and took her to the butcher for me. We donated her meat because there was no way I could eat her. I have no problem eating our steers, but I could never eat my beloved Cricket. Yup, I'm a wimp when it comes to that, but I couldn't make her suffer. My love for her wouldn't let me let her suffer. I still get teary when I think about her. I wish her last heifer calf had lived, but she was stillborn and already stiff, which I suspect might have contributed to the prolapse problem, I dunno, I could be wrong. Maybe it was just her age, and the fact that she had some Hereford in her.
This was Cricket's prolapse, when I first saw it, and it was fatal.
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Those people need to put that cow down, or have her stitched in a permanent way, immediately. I can't understand why they're letting it drag on like this if they profess to love her so much.
Yes, it sucks when a cow has to die because of a simple muscle malfunction, or a horse because of a flipping belly-ache, but it happens, more often that we like.