Mrs Down's Diary March 4 2009

The calf in question has had one of its back legs in pot for three weeks. Being trodden on by a large cow when it was probably having a quiet kip in the foldyard resulted in a sprained or possibly broken leg.

Either way, the calf could not bear any weight on the leg and was not in a position to get out of the way quickly if another cow threatened to repeat the unintentional assault.

The vet suggested that the best way to give the leg a chance to heal was to pot up the calf's leg, that way immobilising and protecting the joint at the same time. Worked a treat.

In next to no time the calf was skipping around the foldyard, joining in the 'chase me chase me' games that calves love. Much to the irritation of their stolid Mums.

The pot consisted of a length of bandage that the vet soaked in water before applying to the calf's leg. It was then wrapped around, mummy- style, and left to harden on the leg and form a plasticised, not plaster of Paris, case.

"Do we need to soak the material to get it off?" I asked John, envisaging several large wet towels being put to use to soften the pot. After all, even I couldn't imagine the calf would stand quietly with its leg in a bucket to complete the job.

"No, it has to be sawn or cut off," John said. Oh. Simple then. Which was why I had ended up trying to hang on to a less-than co-operative calf at one end while John tried to persuade it to stand still long enough for him to get the secateurs down the pot and clip it off at the other.

Rethink. Especially as the job was being complicated by a whole herd of concerned Mrs Cows, at very close quarters, who had convinced themselves that, at the very least, our intentions were very, very dodgy.

We led the calf out of the foldyard (more consternation from the cows - now we looked like we were calf-napping) and into the big shed. In there is a fixed metal workbench with vice, etc, and - importantly - an angle grinder.

I wrapped the rope round the table leg and shortened it until the calf's head in its halter was restrained. Then, under instructions, leaned into the calf and kept it still until John completed the job of removing the pot. Took less than a minute.

"In a bound he was free," as the saying goes. But on his return back to the foldyard his Mum nearly rebroke his leg by bowling him over as soon as he nuzzled up to her again.

"That'll learn you. Going off and not asking first." Mothers. They're all the same.