I actually rope the baby and, with our neighbor Ken's help, fashion a halter to keep the calf from choking itself to death while we bait the cow into the pen. We retreat to the shade and a glass of tea, feigning indifference while Mom sidles up to the pen. The bucket of grain proves too much of a temptation. In she goes to munch. The trap is sprung and there is no escape.
Baby now has Mom corralled for a long-awaited nursing session.
Mom can't get up enough of a run to jump the six-foot panels. Sandy and Tim retreat to their planning session and decide to learn what it is like to offer cows at auction. So next Friday we will drive these cattle to the Western Slope Livestock Auction where we will try to maintain forlorn looks on our faces while the auctioneer sells our beef to some unsuspecting fool. We'll laugh all the way home and watch our TV for some amusing video of the Olympic hopeful cow. May they all then stay where they are.