The Moat

Has anyone ever known that intense pain and suffering was awaiting them and there was absolutely nothing that could be done to stop it?  (Besides giving birth.)  I guess what I'm really asking is, has anyone else ever tried to feed a blind bucket calf? 

Wes brought me my new little bundle of joy yesterday evening.  He found him out in the pasture and thinks that the intense heat stress coupled with some unknown factor caused him to go blind.  Yuck.  Just because the little guy is blind; however, it does not mean that he is in any way feeble.  That little bugger can kick the crap out of anything.  It is very true that the lack of one sense is compensated for by the others. 

I finally got the calf pinned into a corner, straddled him and got a half of a bottle of milk into him.  Success!  I looked towards the other end of the shed and saw both Loopie and Laurie laying on the concrete staring at me with a pitiful, forlorn look on their faces.  The poor girls were forced to share their space with soooo many bucket calves over the course of the winter and spring and now to have to do it all over again.... sigh.... I felt incredibly guilty.  I needed to make it up to them. 

Sooooo, when the concrete truck came to pour the concrete for our porch several months ago, it was actually wet enough to cut deep ruts in our yard.  And yes, the ruts still exist.  Its on my list of things to do, get off my case.  Wes and I have affectionately named this rut "The Moat".  Once upon a time when there was actually rain in Kansas we saw it filled and the name has stuck since then. 

Because I felt so badly about the little girls having to share their shed space I decided that filling the moat on this miserably hot day would make for a nice peace offering.  I ran the hose across the yard and watched the water begin to flow.  Loopie trotted up peacefully, standing next to the edge, watching her reflection in the water, gently lapping it up and making tiny waves.....

Laurie came like a shot out of nowhere and did a flying cannonball into the middle of the moat, effectively covering everyone in the near vicinity in a muddy, hairy, nasty mess.  "Did she stop there?" you ask yourself.  Not a chance.  Some little switch in her head went off (or went on, depending upon how you want to look at it) and she went absolutely ballistic for the next 15 minutes.  She would run figure 8's around our yard like she was one of the children in the Family Circus cartoons, do a flying cannon ball into the moat, chase after Loopie and myself, laughing as we ran and screamed each time, shake off, and repeat the ENTIRE process.  Over and over and over.... 

Wesley pulled up in the feed pickup last night right at dark.  I thought that maybe, just maybe, it might be dark enough out that he wouldn't notice the state of nastiness that the three of us girls were in.  Man, I was wrong.  It was a toss up as to who got into more trouble, what with Loopie and I pointing the finger of blame (or paw in Loopie's case) at Laurie and vice versa.  I'll call it a draw.  I just know that I can't wait to do it alllllll over again tonight!

I apologize for the blurry nature of these pictures.  These were taken with my camera phone and I was trying to jump near Laurie for a picture and then jump away suddenly before she would start her full body shake.  Its the same sort of adrenaline rush that photographers get when photographing wildlife in the jungle or Serengeti desert I would imagine.