Out Our Way: The prodigal calf

A few years ago, Charlie and I were checking for strays as the time had come to move the herd from the summer pasture. The grass was pretty well used up and the reservoir was getting down, so we had moved most of the herd down to the gate leading into the fresh fall pasture. Then Charlie and I rode out to the far corners and just scouted to see if we missed anyone. Well, indeed we had, for as we hit the far fence and turned around to begin riding back, we saw a little bull calf off by himself.

Now in this day and age, the coyotes and mountain lions are not nearly as common as they used to be, but even so, the pairs of cattle usually tend to stick close together. But here was this lone calf out in the big open with nary a mamma cow in sight. The whole herd was a good two or three miles off heading into the fall pasture, so this little guy was facing a cold and lonely winter on his own if we didn't push him toward mom and home. But of course, he didn't want to go.

Fortunately for him, Charlie and our horses knew their business - and although I was pretty much just along for the ride, I got to do some cantering and galloping to head off the little doofus when he tried to break or head the wrong way. I know the Hawthorne bushes where he had been hiding felt safe and comfortable to him, but when the Alberta Clippers come sweeping down from across the Milk, thin grazing and frozen water would likely spell his doom. So Charlie and I picked him up in our final sweep of the summer prairies and pushed him down to the gate and the herd. I know some cattle will "babysit" the young ones while mom and the bridge club head out for the afternoon's chit chat, but if these guys did, little buster brown here snuck off and nobody missed him. At any rate, somewhere along the way he picked up mama's scent and started bawling. Mom heard him, realized he wasn't with the herd and started bawling back.  Pretty soon they were back together thanks to Charlie and me - and that's one calf whose bones we didn't run across the next summer when the grass was high and lush again up there.

It sort of got me thinking of the story of the prodigal son - the young bull-headed calf that ran off from dad and the farm to see the sights in a foreign land (Luke 15: 11- 32). Like little buster, he got the notion he was a "big boy" now and could handle anything on his own. He headed for what he thought would be greener pastures, but it wasn't long before the buzzards at the casinos and clubs spotted him as a greenhorn and picked him clean. Before he knew it, he was alone, cut off, and going down for the third time in the wastelands. 

But dad didn't forget that stray. Somewhere along the line the youngster realized he was in trouble and had the good sense to know it. So he turned around and started following his back trail, and long before he saw the home place, he saw his dad riding full tilt toward him to bring him back home. Instead of telling him what a fool he had been, dad laid out a spread and invited the whole community to the welcome home, Buster BBQ.

When mama saw her lost little baby trotting across the pasture to rejoin the herd, she started lowing and commenced licking that calf all over in welcome. Cows don't smile, to my knowledge, but there was no doubt in Charlie's or my mind that they were a pretty happy pair. No doubt in our minds either that when any of us poor bull-headed sinners wake up and start heading to the lush green pastures and still waters God has staked out for us, God will be just as glad to see us.         

(John Bruington is pastor of the Presbyterian Church in Havre. Copies of the "Out Our Way" column and cartoon, as well as his weekly cartoon and children's message series "Bruin-Town Tales," can be viewed at the church website: http://www.havrepres.org. The book "Out Our Way: Theology Under Saddle" is also available at Amazon.com.)