The Highway Calf Rescue
This week took an unexpected turn — quite literally — when we found ourselves rescuing a calf on the side of Route 1.
We were driving along, minding our own business, when we noticed a few cars pulled over and people looking toward the road ahead. As we got closer, we saw more people, more commotion… and then something small and brown darting across the highway.
It was a calf.
My mom was driving her minivan, so naturally, I told her to pull over so Desa and I could help (because of course we did). The scene was pure chaos; cars, trucks, and tractor trailers flying by while a few people tried, unsuccessfully, to catch the poor thing.
We jumped the median rail and ran over, asking where they were trying to get him and where the trailer was. No one had a clue. The calf had no interest in being caught and kept running wild, right into traffic. I finally ran out into the road to flag down cars before someone (or something) got hit.
After several failed attempts, one guy finally managed to football tackle the calf. I ran over and threw myself on top of him to keep him from breaking loose again. Someone handed us a few ropes, and we tied his feet just enough to keep him still while we carried him off the median and over to the side of the road.
By then, a police officer had arrived to help with traffic, and we all stood there, hot, sweaty, and a little bloody, trying to figure out what on earth to do next.
About fifteen minutes later, someone pulled over and told us they’d seen a livestock trailer driving the opposite direction earlier, gate wide open, with a calf tumbling out onto the road. That explained the cuts and scrapes and why he was bleeding; thankfully, not from being hit, just from his rough exit.
No one knew where to take him, so (naturally) I offered my mom’s van. She gave me that look — but at this point in my life, nothing I do should surprise her.
So, with a police report filed and my ID handed over in case the owner came looking, we loaded a trembling, bleeding calf into the back of the minivan, right on top of the week’s groceries, and headed back to the farm.
We determined he couldn’t be more than a few days old, so that meant he needed milk. Fortunately, I have a wonderful “Daisy” who has allowed him to nurse from her. All is well!!
Just another day in the life, right?
If you ever see a calf in the back of a minivan heading south on Route 1… mind your business. Thanks for reading and for cheering us on through the chaos and unpredictability of farm life. Keep scrolling for this week’s updates and what’s happening at the farm store!
OH! And we thought it fitting to name him Road Runner!
