Meet "Sunday."
She's named Sunday because she had the audacity to start dying on a Sunday.
Her mom is a 1st calf heifer and doesn't really know what to do with her, so she mostly abandoned this little calf in the weeds.
Which meant we spent most of our Sunday doing....
... this. Pumping electrolytes and milk replacer into this little one on our ONLY day of rest.
But, after all, who among us would let our ox die if he fell in a ditch on the sabbath?
Definitely necessary labor, and kind of fun labor at that, but these every-few-hour-feedings when she lives a 15 minute drive away make for a very unrestful day of rest.
Who can resist that sweet face?
This morning her mother rediscovered her. She's still far from out of the woods (she might have scours and we still haven't seen her nurse), but we'll be watching her closely.
Good luck, little Sunday.
