Last evening we gathered in Layton, Utah for a wonderful Family Reunion, I found little Megs and her big brother Jeff standing at the fence to a neighboring pasture. Joining them, I discovered that they were chumming llamas. They were tossing carrots over the fence and wondering what llamas say. I told them they spit, so we were making our best spitting sounds, "pouittt, spouitttt. spouitt" to no effect. We couldn't toss the carrots far enough to capture their attention. They were surprised and little bit skeptical when I told them that llamas are cousins to camels. I'd like for them to have had a better look.
It was about then that Megan drew my attention to a calf she took to be stuck between a fence and a shed. It took me quite some time to even make it out a hundred yards across the pasture. Sure enough, a little black calf seemed sandwiched between corral poles and the shed wall. Jeff suggested we go tell the farmer so the calf could be rescued. Sounded like a good idea to me.
We informed their parents and headed over there. Out on Gentile Road there was some question as to which house in the row, connected to the farm. I chose, using some deductive reasoning, the third house. The kids were a bit concerned and then relieved when a sign beneath the house number read, "The Farm."
I asked them what they were going to tell the farmer? "We're not going to tell him anything, you are!" was their desperate reply. We knocked on the door and heard a neighborly, "Come in!" shouted back to us.
"Grandpa! We can't just go in!"
"Sure we can, didn't you hear the invitation?"
Over riding protests we went in. We found a couple of old fellows chatting in the drawing room. The elder of the two asked our business and I explained the situation. He had a difficult time making out what I was trying to tell him. Megan and Jeff pitched in their two bits and finally we made him understand that his calf was in trouble. The farmer didn't look well and we found out later he was suffering from cancer. His companion informed us that he would help the farmer rescue the calf. They seemed a bit skeptical as they thanked us and saw us to the door. I'd secretly hoped they'd invite us out back to assist in the rescue.
Megan ran all the way back to the park so she'd be sure to be back to the fence in time to witness the goings on. The rest of us went to the fence too, in plenty of time. Those two old fellows weren't in much of a rush and were just making it to the barnyard gate. The fiddled with the wire tying the gate shut for a couple of minutes. When the finally did get to the calf, it was plain that they were in agreement with us. The calf was in trouble. The tried in vain to get him free so the kid's Dad, John, who'd joined us and I went back over to offer our assistance. In the end we weren't needed, the took a saw to the pole trapping the calf and had it out about the time we arrived. The calf hobbled over to the trough and drank and drank and drank.
This time the farmer seemed much more appreciative. He gratefully told us that he doubted the calf would have lived until morning had he not been released from his trap. I could tell he was about give out, but he wanted to chat, perhaps to make up for nearly blowing us off before.
As he lived on Gentile Road I asked if he knew my Uncle Don who lives another couple of miles West. "Sure do!" he replied. "We used to be in the same Ward, years and years ago. Then the Ward was divided and then the Stake. Now we don't even live in the same Stake!" He remembered Uncle Don well enough to remember that he was from Star Valley.
John who thinks I must know everybody. Had his suspicions confirmed and razzed me a bit about it on the way back to the Reunion. There, we made a big deal out of Megan and Jeff saving the calf from certain death. Nice to be in the company of heroes. Big or small.
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