Necessity is the mother of invention.
A mother may cause you to invent an alternate plan.
That's the new version of the famous saying after the guys had to get creative to work a new baby calf. They danced around the protective mama and eventually got it deposited in the back of the pickup, away from the mama, who was pawing the ground as ferociously as any bull eying a matador's red cape.
The mama retreated. I imagined her bellowing was designed to bring the cavalry to the baby's rescue. She couldn't round up any of her friends, so she came barreling back.
She was glad to be reunited with her baby. Mission accomplished.
We had already worked the other calves at that location, necessitating the one calf round-up for the late arrival. Today will be the third day that we sort and work a group of baby calves. More on the process later.
Another irony: Yesterday, I was in my black skirt and dress-up clothes at the middle school music festival, weaving my way through hallways packed with kids in their Sunday clothes and trying not to get run over by protruding tubas and trombones.
Today, I'll be in a corral trying not to get run over or stepped on by baby calves and their mamas.
I will not, however, be wearing my black skirt.