Looking back, the young Brahma cross heifer got almost everything right at her first birth.
Her owner had hopes this genetic cross would result in a serious, money-making rodeo bull. The calf was perfectly in position
for an easy birth and the heifer found a quiet place in the tall grass for the event.
The only problem—she just didn’t understand about bike paths.
She’d picked a birth spot next to a heavily traveled bike path in a tourist town at the height of the summer travel season. Before long, a steady stream of mothers with baby strollers, chattering bicyclists and joggers dressed in spray-on Spandex passed within feet of the new born calf.
The worried heifer moved away to watch the camera-pointing parade. Unable to stand and still oblivious to the world, her calf lay comfortably in the grass by the path.
Soon, a sharp-eyed tourist spotted the still wet animal lying on the other side of the barbwire fence. A worried crowd gathered. Thinking the mother cow had abandoned the calf, someone called the nearby horse stables.
The stable owner, who rented that pasture to a rodeo stock contractor, explained to the tourist that the calf was fine and the cow will return shortly to resume its motherly duties. In any case, he’d swing by between horse rides to look at the calf.
What no one explained to the crowd of tourists was if they’d just walked away from the area—further than drooling distance—the heifer would have returned, cleaned and claimed her calf. Everything would have been fine between cow and youngster.
The waiting crowd was concerned and frustrated. About this time, a brave and empowered tourist decided he’d take the calf’s fate into his own hands.
Our hero, unconcerned about what an angry mother cow might do to him, shimmied under the barbwire fence, grabbed the calf and wiggled back to the bike path. Then he hauled the confused young animal to the golf pro shop where he plopped him on the grass. The scent of humans on the calf made the hero his new mother—a subtle change in circumstances lost on the tourist.
And that’s where the stable owner found our hero, petting and cooing into the still-wet ears of the confused young calf. The tourist probably didn’t realize that by taking over as the calf’s new mother—he’d have a better bond with the young bovine by licking it clean of still-damp afterbirth.
The stable owner took the calf and explained in no uncertain terms which had better genetics and manners—the hero or the calf. Offended, the hero refused to give his name and left the area.
They took the calf and returned him to the herd. Each cow, including the heifer, sniffed the little animal and decided it wasn’t hers. The rodeo stock contractor, proud owner of a bottle-baby bucking bull, is making sure the calf is properly fed.
By now, the heifer has forgotten her first mishap while calving. She’s going back into the breeding lineup—probably with instructions to stay away from tourists and bicycle paths.
Bing Bingham is a writer, rancher and storyteller. The calf is doing fine at this writing, his name is Bully the Kid and the owner thinks he may well buck his way into a fine future. If you have a story to pass along, contact Bing at http://www.bingbingham.com/
