The hill was its usual monster self, but this morning, there was a difference. A big difference.
As we huffed up the curve, a calf bellowed at us...from the middle of the road. How it got out of the fence is beyond me. All I know is that the curve is a blind curve and the calf would soon be veal if we didn't get it out of the road.
We coached, we cajoled, and we coaxed. It wouldn't budge. And, by the way, it wouldn't answer to 'hear puppy' neither. Finally, a guy in pajamas stepped onto his porch and told us where Farmer Friendly lived.
Apparently, this farmer was not a morning person. I thought it was mandatory that farmers be morning people. Not so.
After flagging down an SUV so the poor calf wouldn't be squished, waiting in the dangerous curve, and trying to figure out what to do, we called the farmer ...again.
He finally meandered to his pickup, drove to the curve, hefted the runaway in his truckbed (not to gently, I might add!) and drove off.
We were back on track, literally, huffing and puffing the rest of the way.
Oh, the country life is the only life for me!