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Valley
of western Oregon. Rains had been making things mucky. As he
mounted the steps, he stopped in his tracks! There in a pile, under
the harsh porch light were his wife’s clothes. Right down to the daintys. He
looked around…he wasn’t sure why he looked around, he just did.
Earlier
that evening at twilight, Mo…short for Maureen, his wife, had made the
heifer check. She found none in the process of calving and was about
to go to the house when she heard a plaintive bawl down by the
pond. Working her way thorough the fresh cow pies and mud, shuck, she
called it, she saw a two day old black bally calf. He was standing
elbow deep in the dark water.
Mo
looked down at her tennis shoes, looked up at the drizzling rain, gritted
her teeth and stepped into the shallow end. The sucking mud pulled at
her shoes as she grabbed the calf’s tail. He tried to go forward,
deeper into the pool, so she pulled back. His tailbones cracked like
someone shuffling cards!
Unable
to move the calf with brute force she used her female brain. Mo straddled
the calf and by lifting his legs one step at a time, she backed him the
ten feet to the water’s edge. Along the way, he pulled her down to
her knees more than once, but eventually quit struggling. The calf’s
legs, neck and belly were coated with thick mud, as were Mo’s
extremities. They looked like chocolate figurines you’d find in the
Easter basket.
As
the cold little calf wriggled and shook, Mo did her best with her hands to
scrape the thick muck from their bodies. It was not without the
occasional slip, slap, splash and drag. Using a water hose she got him
clean enough, to where she hoped his mama would recognize
him. Lifeguard duties over, soaked to the skin and shivering, she
unpeeled on the porch, washing each barnyard-stained garment inside and
out with the hose, and left them in a pile.
At
daylight the next morning, the hired man showed up early. He came to
the house to talk to Dick. Standing on the porch he noticed the sodden
pile of clothing. Women’s clothing, he observed. He looked
around. He wasn’t sure why he looked around, he just did.
Baxter Black is a former
large animal veterinarian who can be followed nationwide through this
column, National Public Radio, public appearances, television and also
through his books, cds, videos and website, www.baxterblack.com.
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