My words meant nothing to him. Still, speaking quietly helped me slow my movements, and slow was what we needed.
“We’re right here,” I told him. “Just stay with us.”
Ben guided a broad strap into position while I cleared more space.
Our first effort achieved almost nothing.
The strap tightened. Mud shifted around the calf’s body.
Then everything stopped.
“Release,” Ben said.
We let the tension go.
The calf made a thin, breathless sound.
I stared at the mud holding him. The herd had strength we couldn’t begin to match. If strength alone could free him, he would already be standing beside his mother.
We had to change what was holding him.
So we dug.
We opened a narrow channel toward lower ground, allowing water to trickle away. Then we widened the space beside one trapped leg.
Every shovelful seemed absurdly small.
I wanted a machine, more people, an answer that worked immediately.
