A Calf Story

Yesterday I was driving to work, tearing down route 12, hoping I just might make it to work on time. Route 12 is dotted with dairy farms for miles and miles. I pass several of them between Sherburne and Norwich. Some of them are pristine and lovely, with concrete pads next to the barn for the cows to stand on and hay feeders brimming with lovely stuff for them to eat. Others are pitiful and sad, with cows knee deep in mud surrounding empty feeders. I was getting close to one of the nicer farms, when I spied a newborn calf, umbilical cord still hanging, tiptoeing toward the highway! A big black dog was barking and dancing all around it, trying to keep it from the road. Now 12 is a main thoroughfare and both lanes have steady traffic, especially in the morning rush hour. Where could this baby have come from? He was in front of a big barn with a door open. I put on the brakes and pulled on to the grass to block the calf from the road. At that point two other big dogs came running out from behind the barn, barking at me, the stranger. What to do, what to do...get out and let the dogs get me while I am trying to save the calf? I decided to lay on the horn. I blew and blew but no one came out. No one else stopped, either. The calf started to teeter around the truck to get to the road! I got out saying, hi doggies, good doggies, in my friendliest, squeakiest voice (dogs love squeaky voices, it sounds like puppies). Thankfully, they were very friendly. I took the calf, still wet, by the tail and under the chin, just like I would a sheep, and turned him (I checked, ofcourse) around. He fell down on the grass. I pulled him up and we managed to get closer to the barn. He fell down again. I ran for the barn and peaked inside, but saw no one. I ran to the house and knocked on the door. Nobody home, but there was a pick up in the driveway! I actually opened the kitchen door and yelled HELLO!!!! and still nothing. Meantime, the calf had gotten up and started teetering toward the road. Now, I am not exactly a runner. Matt makes fun of me all the time, how I flail my arms and legs around, etc. I was trying to get to the calf before, well, you can imagine. Just then a man pulled over and grabbed the calf. I told him I couldn't find anybody. This guy was a farmer and knew what he was doing. He took the calf by the heels and pulled him into the door I had looked in before. There was another door I had failed to find which led into the inner barn. There was a long line of cows hooked up for milking, machines running, but still no farmer. The man and I decided to leave the calf next to the cows and get going. I had to get to work and so did he. We found a door to close so the wandering calf couldn't follow through with his death wish. I thanked him for his help and drove on. I guessed a cow in the milking area gave birth, licked him off, and then he wandered through two doors out to the road. Maybe she was hooked up to milk and couldn't follow? Who knows? I know I saved a life. He is probably in the veal room by now, poor thing. A bull calf is not banded and saved for wool, like my wethers. I told the story to anyone who would listen at work...I was still a bit taken aback by my adventure. I thought later I should have taken the calf to work with me. There are many BOCES people who are dairy workers and could have advised me how to take care of him. If the cap was on my truck and that man hadn't stopped to help me I just might have...I know Laurie, the dairy farmer turned English teacher, would have been tickled pink!