Remembering Orphan Annie

Yesterday I found an orphan heifer calf. Thin as a rail, she worked from cow to cow trying to suck and meeting with a kick that knocked her down. Her long eyelashes and soft brown eyes were irresistible, as was her pure innocent will to survive.

I dubbed her Orphan Annie, brought her home, and filled her with milk and colostrum. My prognosis was favorable as she explored her new home and layed down for a nap. This morning she was dead. Death is part of life and we see our share of that reality living in a wild grassland. But this one hit me hard; I think because this calf was a gamer.  

Annie’s death somehow sapped my self righteous indignation over initiative 16 in our Colorado legislature. Her will to sustain life was trumped by a world that owes no debt to man or animal.  Our soft 21st century life lures us into the belief that the world owes us something. We obsess over daily irritations like pumps that quit when it’s 100 degrees and cattle need water, traffic that makes us late, or our neighbor with different political views who is obviously an idiot.  

The reality is this life owes us nothing; instead we owe it. To paraphrase Auschwitz survivor Viktor Frankl: We are questioned by life, and one can only answer by taking responsibility for oneself.  Annie took responsibility for herself as she tried cow after cow to get some nourishment. Shortly I’ll take her out to the coyotes, crows, vultures, bobcats, beetles, ants, and flies. She’ll finish being responsible as her body cycles back to the earth. I’ll know exactly where I left her and I bet there will be an unusually green spot there in a couple years