Tuesday, March 27, 2007

City Kids

When I was a little girl (five years old) my parents bought a farm, and they then proceeded to buy some animals and chickens. Dad bought a cow so that we would have milk, and we named her "Betsy".

Well, Betsy had a calf. As it was evident that she was getting close to having her calf, my dad told my brothers to check out the situation when they came home from school each day. (Two of my brothers were in high school and one was in grade school). If she didn't have her calf near our barn, Dad at least wanted my brothers to find out where she was before it got dark.

As it happened, Betsy had her calf way out in a pasture area which was not close to our barn. My brothers found her with the calf and they decided that they needed to bring the calf home. At this point it was very obvious that we were just a bunch of "city kids". If cows could speak, I think Betsy would have said, "Look, I've had this calf all by myself and I can certainly see that she gets home without YOUR help."

My brothers decided that if they took the wheelbarrow out there they could put the calf in and bring it home that way. Well, Betsy did NOT think that was a great idea. She was reallly fussing. Picking the calf up was not all that easy, and keeping it in the wheelbarrow was a very humorous scene. The calf would try to stand up and the wheelbarrow would tip first to one side and then to the other, with my brothers trying to keep the calf from falling out. Betsy was following along and just making no end of fuss.

We didn't get very far down the path before my brothers decided that this was not going to work. So they helped the calf out of the wheelbarrow, .. a very clumsy operation... with the calf fighting them all the way. Now this is the best part... the calf stood there for a moment or two, rather sprawl-legged, and then proceeded to follow Betsy the rest of the way home, walking on it's own... somewhat unsteadily, but nevertheless on it's own.

Being on the farm was great fun, but we had much to learn!

© 2007 Arlene Schwartzkopf