My Take Tuesday: Reindeer Reproduction

On March 28, 2010, I was heading north on I-15 toward Cottonwood Heights, the glow of the Salt Lake Valley coming into view, my mind busy with the usual churn that precedes a new job. I was to start at an animal hospital in West Jordan the next morning, and the closer I got, the more the nerves settled in my stomach.

Then my phone rang.

The voice on the other end held a familiar tremor of worry. His pet was believed to be pregnant, and he needed confirmation. But there was a twist I hadn’t seen coming: the pet in question was a reindeer.

Now, I’ve treated a fair bit of the alphabet in my veterinary career—antelope, tigers, bison, camels, you name it—but reindeer were still firmly in the “only in National Geographic” category for me. I’d never examined one, let alone a pregnant one. Still, I was only a few miles away, and curiosity nudged me forward.

I turned off the freeway and headed his way.

I arrived just in time. Mischief—an aptly named cow with a soft, inquisitive face—was laying on her side with two black legs protruding from her backside.

I couldn’t help blurting the obvious: “Well, she’s definitely pregnant!”

Minutes later, I found myself kneeling beside her as we delivered a small jet-black calf, a striking little creature who looked as if someone had dipped her in ink. She was weak, her heart rate too slow, and the situation grew serious quickly. We worked fast. I administered medication, we dried her, warmed her, urged her to fight. Over the next several days we bottle-fed her while Mischief recovered from a retained placenta.

By the end of that first week, both mother and calf had turned a corner. They were eating, standing, bonding—living. It felt like watching the tundra thaw in early spring.

Over the following weeks, I returned often to check on them. On one of those visits, the owner approached me with a question that stopped me in my tracks: would I be willing to help him start an artificial insemination program for his reindeer?

He had been searching for more than a decade for a veterinarian willing to attempt assisted reproduction in this species. Every lead had ended in a polite decline.

And truthfully, the idea was daunting. But deep down, I knew that sometimes the best adventures begin exactly this way.

I told him yes.

Once I began researching, the size of the challenge became clear. Artificial insemination in reindeer had been attempted repeatedly since 1973, yet success remained nearly mythical. Even a well-funded (tens of thousands of dollars) effort at the University of Alaska had produced only a single live calf.

We had just $2,000, a modest barn, and more determination than was probably reasonable.

There was no roadmap. We had to develop our own methods for semen collection, cryopreservation, estrus synchronization, and trans-cervical insemination. We tried, failed, adjusted, tried, and failed again. There were nights when the only thing colder than the liquid nitrogen tank was the feeling of discouragement creeping in.

But then came the spring of 2011.

That was the year we made history: the world’s first female reindeer calf conceived through frozen-thawed artificial insemination. She stood on wobbly legs, blissfully unaware that she represented decades of attempts—and more than a few stubborn streaks on our part.

Since then, the program has produced dozens of calves using new techniques in semen collection, freezing, and insemination. With consistently high post-thaw motility and strong pregnancy rates, it has grown into one of the most successful reindeer artificial insemination programs in the world.

Looking back, it’s remarkable how one unexpected phone call can reroute a career. Life often hinges on those small moments when preparation meets opportunity and something greater unfolds.

Thousands of years ago, an astute observer noted:

“The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong… but time and chance happeneth to them all.” — Ecclesiastes 9:11

Time and chance were certainly at work that day on I-15.

And that is my take.

N. Isaac Bott, DVM

This photo from 2011 captures a landmark moment in veterinary reproduction—the world’s first female reindeer calf conceived using frozen–thawed semen.