Preston Garvey Week Day 5 - Animals

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: September 2025

NOTES: One of several entries into Preston Garvey (Appreciation) Week over on Tumblr!

One of the–if not the–best parts of restoring settlements across the Commonwealth was seeing how things thrived. The grass grew, walls were reinforced, and people were happy; genuinely happy. It made Preston’s heart swell as he found himself toiling away at checking along the trade routes. Shepard had to put a hold on his business with the Minutemen to pursue a vital lead on his missing son, so the pair had separated upon request from the vault dweller. While Preston found himself reluctant to oblige, he knew all too well that the situation was severe; it required a delicacy that only space could provide.

So, he traveled along the Commonwealth with Dogmeat in tow. From one settlement to another, the General’s right hand was making himself a friendly face to all the new folks they’ve taken in. Spreading good graces and positive energies through that soft, charismatic smile of his. And as he found himself sat near the newly-constructed gardens of the Sunshine Tidings co-op, Preston found a sense of peace he hadn’t felt since his days as a farmhand in Medford.

The warm sun shining on his cheeks made him think of those days when he wasn’t much taller than a crop of razorgrain, excited hands reaching out in an attempt to pet the wandering livestock. He could hear his mother’s gentle voice telling him to be careful not to scare them off, even as none seemed to pay him any mind. That was, until a young brahmin waddled over and mooed enthusiastically.

“Sunny!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms up and welcoming the bulking twin heads to butt against his chest. He stumbled, but he was determined to keep himself upright… even if those attempts were futile and he found himself planted in the dirt.

The brahmin followed him down, buckling her knees to kneel and wagging her tail as she sat beside him, one head in his lap and the other sniffing at his face. He reached around her to pet her heads, laughing all sweet and chattering on and off about his day. In the distance, up the hill, he saw his mother and father talking. They stood arm and arm, and watched with vibrant smiles.

“Excuse me, Preston?” A soft, unfamiliar voice rang out. Dogmeat chuffed and nudged his side, causing his eyes to open and his hand to reach up to shield the sun.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He offered an apologetic look, moving to stand and dust off his coat.

“Uhm–One of our brahmin is about to give birth a-and our resident caretaker left this morning after getting word from one of the other settlements. The calf’s feet are upside down and I’m not sure I can do it myself–”

Before they finished, Preston’s sleeves were rolled up. “Lead the way.”

And the three were off. Dogmeat ran ahead, head tilted upward as he sniffed at the air, latching onto the scent that lingered to the farmhand’s arms. Preston and them followed, boots leaping from the sunbleached dirt and onto the firm wooden planks of the barn. Desperate brays filled the open-air room, and their hound pointed at the far stall. The farmhand stepped forward and spoke to the brahmin within, raising their hands and reassuring the heifer as she backed away from the door. Preston whistled for Dogmeat to back up, and the hound stepped around his legs to sit across the pathway. He stepped in with the farmhand, bringing his hand low and extending it so she could grow accustomed to his scent. While hesitant, she lowered her head to sniff, then looked back to the farmhand as they brought their hands to rest on her hinds.

“Alright, do you want to comfort her, or assist with labor? Both of us back there’s gonna scare her,” his voice was low. Steady. He’d clearly done this before.

“I want to–” They cleared their throat. “I want to assist with labor. Just… Just tell me what to do.”

A nod, and Preston stepped out just enough to peer around the brahmin’s rear and see what the situation looked like.

“Okay… Good, good. We came back early enough that flipping the calf should be fairly easy. Start by checking on the calf’s feet–Give them a little pinch by the hoof. We need to make sure they’re still doing okay, too.”

“Got it!” A few moments pass. “It tried to kick.”

“That’s good! They’re active throughout the labor process, so you’ll feel them squirming as you assist. They may even try to suck on your fingers.” He laughed. The farmhand peeked with a shocked expression. “It’s okay, it won’t hurt. It just feels a little funny. Now, you have to do this next part carefully to not hurt momma here.”

A pause to gauge the farmhand’s reaction. Upon seeing the hesitation, he offered a reassuring look. “You’re going to have to reach in to make sure you can really grab the calf’s legs and that they’re in position. Pull on them and see if they start to slide.

The farmhand lingered before taking a breath and doing just as instructed. The soft crinkle of the medical sleeves was just audible above everything else, and it could be heard again when they started to pull. More of the calf’s legs became visible.

“They’re moving!”

“Great! Now, if you can free a hand, I want you to grab those straps hanging on the hook and make two loops. The first loop should go above the fetlock, and the other half hitch just above the hoof. That’s going to be how you pull the rest of them out. Momma here’s going to set the pace for you, just watch her and don’t go too fast.”

One loop. Then another. Hands wrapping around the excess strappage before boots planted firmly on the haybed. Preston guided his hands under the brahmin’s chin, rubbing at her jaw as he watched the farmhand. He nodded, and off they went. The tugs were smooth and firm, pausing every so often to await the next set of contractions. Soon enough, the calf slid out and found itself in a brand new world. The brahmin immediately withdrew from the comforting touches to nudge and lick at her babe, and Preston beamed.

“I’d give you a hug, but…” His eyes wandered down the front of the farmhand, who was covered in the aftereffects.

“Oh, it’s… It’s fine, really. Thank you so much!” They stepped away from the momma and her calf, joining Preston outside the stall and carefully shutting the door. “You were able to walk me through it like a pro..”

Dogmeat crept over and sniffed at the farmhand, tail wagging before he wandered off outside the barn. His owner offered a towel, which the farmhand gladly accepted.

“I grew up on a farm like this. Smaller… Just me and my parents… But we had Brahmin. Adopted a calf into our flock and raised her to be a real prize.” His expression softened. “Helped her through plenty of births before her time came.”

Their wiping paused. “Wow… That’s great. We could really use more people with that sort of expertise. We have our usual guy but… Say, you should write a guide! It’d be mighty handy to have something like that on hand so we can educate more people.”

“Oh, I…” Preston rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea, actually. I never thought it’d be much help in a position like mine.”

A clean hand reached forth. Preston took it and shook it. The farmhand beamed. “Every bit goes a long way. Don’t forget that, sir.”