Excerpt
At first she could see only the tossing head of the Holstein cow that Morley had long ago named Jezebel for her nasty disposition. Sparky sat in the straw close to the pen, tail wagging, ears forward, almost begging to be let in to the pen to help. As Tyne walked closer to the rails she saw Morley, bare from the waist up, standing behind the cow with his right arm almost hidden inside of her.
Tyne gasped and Morley glanced up. His face crimson from the effort of the struggle, he said haltingly, “Tyne … you’re up. I … I didn’t get a chance to … check on you.”
Jezebel, tied by a rope to a post, tossed her head, bellowed and tried to land a kick on her perceived tormentor who deftly sidestepped to avoid the flinging hoof.
Tyne raised her voice to be heard above the cow’s deafening bawl. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I’m trying to … turn the calf. It … it was coming backend first.”
“Oh yeah,” Tyne said, “breach delivery. I didn’t know cows did that.” She raised her voice as the big animal lashed out with its right hind leg, missing Morley’s knee by inches. “Morley, can I help? What can I do?”
She started to open the pen gate, but he stopped her with a warning glance. “No, Tyne, don’t come in here, it’s too dangerous. She … she’s not the gentlest cow we have.”
An understatement, Tyne thought as she stepped back. But she felt helpless. She wished Morley had someone to help him because she feared for his safety. But what could she do? She knew of only one veterinarian in the area; most of the farmers were well practiced in taking care of emergencies. But when it came to animals like Jezebel, they needed all the help they could get. Morley had talked of selling the unruly beast, but she was one of his best milk cows and produced excellent offspring.
From her vantage point beside the gate, Tyne saw Morley’s face turn crimson and heard him grunt with one last effort. Then he stepped back and away from Jezebel who interpreted her sudden freedom as a signal to lie down.
Manolis Aligizakis 