I don’t really like animals.
They smell, they poop everywhere, they eat a lot, they drink a lot ... and the list could go on and on.
So why, you may ask, do I live on a farm?
Simply put, I don’t know.
But what I do know is that I’ve given my heart away to only one other animal on earth — my late cat, Friskie. Since him, no other animal has been able to lure me into any kind of relationship. Until now.
See, I am totally head-over-heels in animal love (not inappropriately, of course) with our bottle calf, Lucky Lady Sally.
Lucky, who is now a year old, is a giant, over-grown dog in a calf’s body. She has no clue who she is and what her intended purpose is on our farm. I mean she was literally on a chain in our backyard until recently. Lucky would be a perfect case study for animal identity crisis!
I really didn’t know I was attached to her until Matt had her loaded up to go sell. Literally when I heard the back of the trailer shut up something inside me sounded alarms. I ran outside like the maniac that I am and screamed, “Noooooo!!”
Matt, who thought something was seriously wrong, was a bit relieved to hear that all he had to do to fix my hysteria was free Lucky.
And so marks the beginning of our journey together.
A couple weeks ago, we decided to wean our calves. Well, Matt went ahead and plopped Lucky in with all the rest, just to simplify things.
And while he was at work, my job was to keep an eye on the hot calves, their water and make sure their shade and fans were all in working order.
Done.
I diligently checked every so often. Each time I ventured out on that particular Wednesday, I noticed Lucky had her head stuck out of the pen and was eating. Didn’t look atypical. Animals are always doing stuff like that, right?
But when I went out again around noon I noticed her head was still sticking out of the fence, but she wasn’t eating anymore! Panic hit and I threw open the gate and entered the cow pen (in flip-flops, of course) and ran to be by Lucky’s side.
The kids were watching me from the back porch as I ran, again like the maniac I am, back and forth from the garage to the house and back.
My dad showed up and we both took up the battle to free Lucky. I was now beside myself — tears were flowing.
We needed help. Someone with experience in this.
Timmie was called in to once again rescue this first-time “farmer.”
As you can imagine, it took him a whole 32 seconds and barely any effort to free Lucky, who immediately (luckily) galloped straight to the water bin.
Phew! Mom told me that surely the rest of my day could not be any more eventful...
...Until we were pulling into the driveway that night around 7 p.m. (already past the kids’ bedtimes) and we were followed in by a neighbor.
“Your calves are all up and down H Highway.”
Great!
Matt jumped out and got on the phone to call in reinforcements — Timmie, Mary Ann and Patrick — and yelled a few, almost inaudible, commands at me.
I parked the Suburban to block off part of the yard.
As I was running across the yard I heard Rylan screaming after me: “It’s an emergency, emergency!”
After being screamed at to “do that,” “not like that, like this,” “go there,” “close this,” “get that”... they were finally caught.
Matt and I sat on the couch that night completely overwhelmed. Understandably though, it was our mortgage running along the highway!
I had an epiphany that night. I realized that my soul purpose on this earth is to entertain God. It has to be. I’m almost certain my life is displayed like “The Truman Show” on some cable network in heaven. Surely there’s no other logical reason my life could play out in sitcom-like segments.
Like I’ve said before, I know my life is scripted and I know who the screenwriter is. But, what I’m not so sure about is why He was in such a funny mood when He wrote about me.
They smell, they poop everywhere, they eat a lot, they drink a lot ... and the list could go on and on.
So why, you may ask, do I live on a farm?
Simply put, I don’t know.
But what I do know is that I’ve given my heart away to only one other animal on earth — my late cat, Friskie. Since him, no other animal has been able to lure me into any kind of relationship. Until now.
See, I am totally head-over-heels in animal love (not inappropriately, of course) with our bottle calf, Lucky Lady Sally.
Lucky, who is now a year old, is a giant, over-grown dog in a calf’s body. She has no clue who she is and what her intended purpose is on our farm. I mean she was literally on a chain in our backyard until recently. Lucky would be a perfect case study for animal identity crisis!
I really didn’t know I was attached to her until Matt had her loaded up to go sell. Literally when I heard the back of the trailer shut up something inside me sounded alarms. I ran outside like the maniac that I am and screamed, “Noooooo!!”
Matt, who thought something was seriously wrong, was a bit relieved to hear that all he had to do to fix my hysteria was free Lucky.
And so marks the beginning of our journey together.
A couple weeks ago, we decided to wean our calves. Well, Matt went ahead and plopped Lucky in with all the rest, just to simplify things.
And while he was at work, my job was to keep an eye on the hot calves, their water and make sure their shade and fans were all in working order.
Done.
I diligently checked every so often. Each time I ventured out on that particular Wednesday, I noticed Lucky had her head stuck out of the pen and was eating. Didn’t look atypical. Animals are always doing stuff like that, right?
But when I went out again around noon I noticed her head was still sticking out of the fence, but she wasn’t eating anymore! Panic hit and I threw open the gate and entered the cow pen (in flip-flops, of course) and ran to be by Lucky’s side.
The kids were watching me from the back porch as I ran, again like the maniac I am, back and forth from the garage to the house and back.
My dad showed up and we both took up the battle to free Lucky. I was now beside myself — tears were flowing.
We needed help. Someone with experience in this.
Timmie was called in to once again rescue this first-time “farmer.”
As you can imagine, it took him a whole 32 seconds and barely any effort to free Lucky, who immediately (luckily) galloped straight to the water bin.
Phew! Mom told me that surely the rest of my day could not be any more eventful...
...Until we were pulling into the driveway that night around 7 p.m. (already past the kids’ bedtimes) and we were followed in by a neighbor.
“Your calves are all up and down H Highway.”
Great!
Matt jumped out and got on the phone to call in reinforcements — Timmie, Mary Ann and Patrick — and yelled a few, almost inaudible, commands at me.
I parked the Suburban to block off part of the yard.
As I was running across the yard I heard Rylan screaming after me: “It’s an emergency, emergency!”
After being screamed at to “do that,” “not like that, like this,” “go there,” “close this,” “get that”... they were finally caught.
Matt and I sat on the couch that night completely overwhelmed. Understandably though, it was our mortgage running along the highway!
I had an epiphany that night. I realized that my soul purpose on this earth is to entertain God. It has to be. I’m almost certain my life is displayed like “The Truman Show” on some cable network in heaven. Surely there’s no other logical reason my life could play out in sitcom-like segments.
Like I’ve said before, I know my life is scripted and I know who the screenwriter is. But, what I’m not so sure about is why He was in such a funny mood when He wrote about me.
As seen in the Lawrence County Record
www.thelawrencecountyrecord.com
www.thelawrencecountyrecord.com
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