The Great Calf Chase of August 5

I sat down and put my sneakers on, and stood up. I looked out the front window of the bedroom like I always do.

And there was a calf in the front yard. A 300-pound, not-yet-weaned black Angus calf, to be exact. One of ours, I knew, because it had a red tag in its ear.

Damn.

My husband, of course, was at the firehouse in Roanoke, a good 25-minute drive away. The calf, I hoped, would go back in of its own accord, but meanwhile I couldn't leave on my errands because it might make its way down the driveway and onto the highly traveled two-lane road. The one that leads to the dump and the cement plant. The one that people speed down, doing 60 mph. The one where the calf might be hit by a car and we could be liable for damages.

I called my husband to tell him we had a calf out. It is difficult to run a calf back in when there is only one person, let alone when that person isn't the healthiest in the world. My husband also muttered a few explicit curse words and said he would be home as soon as he could.

Meanwhile, I watched the calf. Two large cows stood on the right side of the fence, having a chat. One licked the other, and the one who was licked turned its head and uttered a very low "moo" in the direction of the calf.

The two cow friends then sauntered away from the fence, toward the watering trough, which is nearly completely out of sight from the house.

Junior there in the front yard panicked. Mom was leaving. Mom! Wait!

To my utter dismay, the calf rushed the fence, bounced off of it, and then began trotting along the fence row, looking for a way back to its mother.

Trotting the fence row in the direction that would lead to the road, I noted.

I grabbed my cellphone and a cane. I don't use a cane anymore (I did for several years but can mostly manage without it now), but chasing a calf demanded movement and movement on uneven ground demanded more of me than I can normally manage.

The only vehicle on the place I can drive is my car, so I backed it out of the garage and slowly drove down the driveway, trying to see where the calf was.

I was just in time to see its rear end prance over the hill down the driveway, straight towards the road.

Damn.

I drove the car to the hill in the driveway. The calf was trying vainly to get through the fence. He would race toward it, hit the wire, and fly backwards. This one is not the brightest one born, I suppose.

In order not to panic the calf, I stayed a distance a way. I tried to think who I could call who could come up the driveway and run the calf toward me. There was no one close except my 85-year-old mother-in-law and I didn't think that would be a good idea.

The calf turned and came toward the car. I backed up a bit, trying to keep a good distance so it would come on back towards the house. To my right, I saw my neighbor's pickup truck come down her driveway. Look this way, I thought. Look and see that I need you to come up my driveway.

She went in the opposite direction.

The calf bolted and went around my car, headed away from the road. I started down to turn around and my neighbor's pickup truck came into sight.

Lanetta is close to 80 years old. She had Bob with her, who's also close to 80, I suppose, and he had a stroke back in the winter. I'm not that old, but I gimp around and am no athlete.

"I thought you might need some help," Lanetta explained. "I thought that calf was out."

I nodded and said I needed to turn around. They let me out and then proceeded to follow the calf up the hill again, toward the house.

The calf continued, on occasion, to throw itself against the fence. Finally it turned the corner and I thought we had it.

We have a gate in the back yard that leads to the pasture fields. I hadn't opened it because I had no way to keep the other cattle from coming out while I chased the calf. Bob opened the gate while I wandered around the front to shoo Junior to the gate. He was heading in the right direction.

Then Junior saw Bob and bolted again, running right by me. Once more the critter raced down the fence line. I raced for my car, (if you can call a fast, stiff walk racing) and had it turned around and headed back down in time to see the calf's butt once more head over the hill.

Yep. Straight towards the road.

This time the calf didn't stop. I debated speeding up and trying to drive in front of it. I also considered calling animal control for help because if this pitiful little calf didn't find its mother quickly I was going to have a problem.

The calf went on into the road. No one was coming, thankfully. Then he went into the ditch, constantly throwing itself against the fence. I called my husband on his cell; he was on his way. I turned on my blinkers and sat in the road while the calf beat itself against the fence and occasionally came back up onto the road only to go back to the fence again. Bob pulled up in the truck behind me.

We have another gate down at the road. I hoped he would move on in that direction and I could open that gate.

But no.

Junior decided he would get back into the road. In a wild-eyed panic, he began trotting down the asphalt toward the driveway entrance, away from the gate. To my horror, in my rearview mirror I saw a blue car coming from the opposite direction. I quickly turned my car around at the gate.

The blue car, fortunately, stopped. The calf stopped, too, for a few seconds, then back up my driveway he flew. I raced to get behind him. The blue car drove on. My hope was to at least trap it in the front yard somehow.

That calf was fast. He'd given up on getting through the fence and by the time I got back up the hill, I couldn't see him. I went on up to the house where Lanetta had stayed to guard the gate.

The calf, she said, came running around the fence line and raced through the open gate as soon as it saw it.

I looked and watched it race over the hill toward the watering trough, bawling as it went. I just knew it was going, "Mamma! Mamma!"  Mamma didn't seem too concerned, though.

I thanked my older helpers for their assistance. Then I called my husband. He was in Daleville, he said, and would come on home to check the fence.

My neighbors left and I went back inside to finish getting ready for a trip to the grocery store.

I picked up some nice hamburgers for dinner tonight. After that morning, red meat on the menu sounded like a good idea.