One of the struggles when a cow calves is every once in a while they’ll just forget they have a calf, and leave it. My wife had one of those yesterday, momma walked off and never looked back. Calf was just curled up in a pile of weeds in the sun all day. Finally, in the evening, knowing it need to suck, she slowly herded the cow back near the calf, went over and got the calf on its feet, held it, and coaxed the momma even closer. Finally, momma sniffed, hummed, remembered apparently, and all seemed well. Then my wife let the calf go. It bolted. I mean it ran like lightning… straight through the barbed wire fence into the next pasture… this time momma did chase and my wife ran and opened the gate so the cow could go around… but the baby kept going right though the next pasture’s barbed wire fence and she lost sight in the brush and trees. We spent the entire evening searching, walking through the trees, brush, everywhere. When night fell, the howl of every coyote was an ominous threat, sounding closer each time. Flashlights poured over every branch and into every gulley looking for a reflection of eyes, listening… and nothing. Finally, exhausted, my wife went to bed late fretting; I worry but not the way she does; she is the ultimate shepherd and losing one hurts to her core. This one really bothered her because, to her mind, if she hadn’t tried to pair them, calf wouldn’t have bolted. That’s the constant struggle between letting nature be versus nudging when nature falls short. She spent a sleepless night and was up before dawn, ready to find the remains. The coyote howls were still echoing in our minds from the night before. But lo and behold, first look into the pasture and the baby was at its mommas side! Nobody that doesn’t live this life understands the highs, lows, stresses, losses, and victories. This morning was a victory. Thank you God for this moment. Wanda and her baby, safe and sound and together.