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Authors: Sandra Neil Wallace
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right away. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Beef calves are the longest of all cattle to stay with their mothers,” Grandpa said. “Still, it’s like leavin’ home when you’re barely a teenager.” Grandpa fiddled with the tuft of hair that stuck straight up on Little Joe’s poll. “It’s not the milk he needs; it’s the company. He doesn’t know he’s ready yet. To be on his own.”
This time Grandpa rubbed the top of Eli’s head. “Let ’em sniff each other real good, Eli. I’ll be down by Fancy’s pasture to see she don’t get cut up. No telling how desperate a mother will be when she can’t find her calf. They’re bent on taking care of that first baby forever.”
Eli took off Little Joe’s halter. He rubbed the sides of Little Joe’s face where the rope left its mark, expecting the bull calf to flinch. Instead, Little Joe just stood there.
“Go on.” Eli shoved Little Joe’s rump closer to Fancy. But the calf thought Eli was playing and nibbled at his sleeve. “Get some milk!” Eli’d said it too loudly. Little Joe’s head jerked up from the sudden sound.
“You don’t know what today is,” Eli whispered. “And I’m glad.” He nudged the bull calf, softly this time, toward Fancy’s black udder. Watching him nurse, Eli couldn’t imagine what it would be like knowing this was the last time with his own ma. He wondered if cow years were like dog years and Little Joe was really almost grown and wouldn’t mind being off on his own. But then Eli thoughtabout Tater at four months. Tater was pretty tiny back then and still acted like a pup.
Eli unleashed Fancy so she could nuzzle her calf one more time. “You’re a good mama,” Eli said sweetly, stroking the hair between her eyes. She sniffed Eli’s arm and snorted a warm breath of air into his elbow. “It’ll be okay, Fancy,” Eli said, not knowing if it was. “You’ll have another baby to take care of next year. Grandpa will make sure of it.”
Pa came back and took the lead strap off the hay bale. “Better get that halter back on,” Pa told Eli. “After we take them down to the pastures, I’ll get the pens cleaned up. Got a new batch of cow-calf pairs coming in. And you can pick out your show stall for E-1.”
Pa hooked up Fancy. “Let me take her down to the pasture by the river maple first, then you follow with the calf.” Fancy’s hooves swished through the straw as Pa turned her around and led her out of the pen. “Be sure to keep your distance behind me.”
Little Joe let Eli lead him to the pasture. Eli’s hand was unsteady as the calf dipped down every other step to smell where Fancy had just been. But that’s how it was with Little Joe. Now that the bull calf trusted him, Eli could pretty much lead the calf anywhere if Fancy wasn’t too far away. And there were plenty of apples in Eli’s pocket.
“Keep about five yards back,” Pa hollered over hisshoulder. “I’ll take her through the first gate, then out the other. E-1 won’t even know what happened.”
The pasture was crowded with steers. Eli could see them gliding in the field, chomping on new grass, and Old Gert in the middle, babysitting them all. They’d already cut into the clover on the top of the hill, mowing off the white tops, and were making their way down to fence level. Eli searched the heads and tails until he spotted the top of Fancy moving as she and Pa went through the first gate. Then more bodies and necks and hips. Eli wasn’t sure who was who anymore. The cattle were all messed together—a jumble of tails drifting and rumps sitting. The sound of heads snorting as they munched.
“We’re goin’ out now!” Pa yelled. “To the pasture behind the fir trees, so don’t follow. Get E-1 in. He won’t even know she’s gone.”
Eli brought Little Joe into the pasture and put him beside Old Gert. The bull calf paused, sniffed at the ground and looked up. Then he trotted over to the second gate and started to bawl. “Come on
“Beef calves are the longest of all cattle to stay with their mothers,” Grandpa said. “Still, it’s like leavin’ home when you’re barely a teenager.” Grandpa fiddled with the tuft of hair that stuck straight up on Little Joe’s poll. “It’s not the milk he needs; it’s the company. He doesn’t know he’s ready yet. To be on his own.”
This time Grandpa rubbed the top of Eli’s head. “Let ’em sniff each other real good, Eli. I’ll be down by Fancy’s pasture to see she don’t get cut up. No telling how desperate a mother will be when she can’t find her calf. They’re bent on taking care of that first baby forever.”
Eli took off Little Joe’s halter. He rubbed the sides of Little Joe’s face where the rope left its mark, expecting the bull calf to flinch. Instead, Little Joe just stood there.
“Go on.” Eli shoved Little Joe’s rump closer to Fancy. But the calf thought Eli was playing and nibbled at his sleeve. “Get some milk!” Eli’d said it too loudly. Little Joe’s head jerked up from the sudden sound.
“You don’t know what today is,” Eli whispered. “And I’m glad.” He nudged the bull calf, softly this time, toward Fancy’s black udder. Watching him nurse, Eli couldn’t imagine what it would be like knowing this was the last time with his own ma. He wondered if cow years were like dog years and Little Joe was really almost grown and wouldn’t mind being off on his own. But then Eli thoughtabout Tater at four months. Tater was pretty tiny back then and still acted like a pup.
Eli unleashed Fancy so she could nuzzle her calf one more time. “You’re a good mama,” Eli said sweetly, stroking the hair between her eyes. She sniffed Eli’s arm and snorted a warm breath of air into his elbow. “It’ll be okay, Fancy,” Eli said, not knowing if it was. “You’ll have another baby to take care of next year. Grandpa will make sure of it.”
Pa came back and took the lead strap off the hay bale. “Better get that halter back on,” Pa told Eli. “After we take them down to the pastures, I’ll get the pens cleaned up. Got a new batch of cow-calf pairs coming in. And you can pick out your show stall for E-1.”
Pa hooked up Fancy. “Let me take her down to the pasture by the river maple first, then you follow with the calf.” Fancy’s hooves swished through the straw as Pa turned her around and led her out of the pen. “Be sure to keep your distance behind me.”
Little Joe let Eli lead him to the pasture. Eli’s hand was unsteady as the calf dipped down every other step to smell where Fancy had just been. But that’s how it was with Little Joe. Now that the bull calf trusted him, Eli could pretty much lead the calf anywhere if Fancy wasn’t too far away. And there were plenty of apples in Eli’s pocket.
“Keep about five yards back,” Pa hollered over hisshoulder. “I’ll take her through the first gate, then out the other. E-1 won’t even know what happened.”
The pasture was crowded with steers. Eli could see them gliding in the field, chomping on new grass, and Old Gert in the middle, babysitting them all. They’d already cut into the clover on the top of the hill, mowing off the white tops, and were making their way down to fence level. Eli searched the heads and tails until he spotted the top of Fancy moving as she and Pa went through the first gate. Then more bodies and necks and hips. Eli wasn’t sure who was who anymore. The cattle were all messed together—a jumble of tails drifting and rumps sitting. The sound of heads snorting as they munched.
“We’re goin’ out now!” Pa yelled. “To the pasture behind the fir trees, so don’t follow. Get E-1 in. He won’t even know she’s gone.”
Eli brought Little Joe into the pasture and put him beside Old Gert. The bull calf paused, sniffed at the ground and looked up. Then he trotted over to the second gate and started to bawl. “Come on
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