The Glare

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These are pictures of My Cowboy treating a newborn calf.

But the things he does to a newborn calf aren't what I want you to focus on.

Instead, check out mama and her GLARE.

She is NOT happy.

Here she is.

My Cowboy said to me, "Take pictures if you want, but your job is to holler if she comes at me. But she won't, she's a nice cow."

My response, "Shall I have them carve that on your tombstone?"

Mama isn't all that happy to see that help has arrived. She seems to think she's doing fine on her own.

My Cowboy goes to make the snag and the calf jumps up and BAWLS. Really bawls LOUD and the cow takes it as a call to arms. She whoofed. Really. She wasn't having any of it. No respect at all.

So My Cowboy backed off, before I even told him he ought to and he went to bring in the big guns.

The Kubota.

I took the picture when we first got it. That's why it's a night shot.

It's sort of a four-wheeler only with bench seats and a back end like a truck bed.

We think of it as a horse that can't kick us.

So My Cowboy went to get the Kubota and backed it up so it was almost against a tree,
skillfully cutting the cow and calf off from each other.
Except, oops, the calf almost got back to her mama and mama isn't happy. I believe when HOT BREATH is being whoofed down your neck, the mama is too close.
My Cowboy hoists the calf up and leaps into the back end of the Kubota, calf in arms.
Yes, he leaps. This is only ONE of the many ways in which My Cowboy resembles Superman.

Now notice The Glare

Mama is not amused.

In fact, she's considering coming into the back end of the Kubota along with her baby.

Meanwhile My Cowboy is doing the rodeo routine. The calf, all of two hours old, is bawling and kicking and just generally trying to fight for his life while calling for help.
The big baby.

This is scour medicine.
Interesting fact.
A calf is more likely to get sick born on a rainy muddy 45 degree April day like today
than she is if she's born into bitter cold January weather.
We don't give this scour medicine in January.

Now for the ear piercing

We remind the calf that if she were HUMAN she's have to pay twenty bucks for this at Claires.

And now the rodeo is nearly over.

While My Cowboy is trying to get the squirming little critter out of the Kubota bed,

the cow is glaring at everyone who is harming her baby.

I think the look on her face here is almost a call to me.

To all mothers.

"How can you sit there clicking pictures while a child is harmed!

Have you no mother's heart? FOR SHAME!!!!!!"

I could just be imagining. A good imagination is an occupational hazard of being a writer.

You should see us trying to get this cow to sign a medical release form.

She's ridiculously uncooperative.

And the baby is set free.
A sniff or two to make sure all is well and then, like all good cows,
she goes back to eating and forgets the whole thing.