The heifer calf came into this world with neither hair nor enough strength to stand. Born prematurely on Wayne’s farm, she had as much chance to live as a rat in a trap.

            Wayne happened upon her lying alongside a pasture fence. As light as a bag of ear tags, he carried her to his truck with one hand. Once inside the barn, he squeezed a half bottle of colostrum down her throat, then went in search of her mama. He found her dead next to a tree in the draw.

            The next morning, the calf was still breathing. Wayne stood her up, but she collapsed. He gave her some milk and patted her head. The following day, he lifted her again and she managed to stand a few seconds. The next day, she took one step. The day after that, two steps.  Her efforts convinced Wayne that she had the will to live, so he named her Munchkin.

            Shortly before Munchkin’s arrival, Wayne had hired a farmhand named Bradley. The young man came from a rough background but was determined to prove himself. Wayne told hm, “If you manage to keep this calf alive, she’s yours.”

            Bradley gave Wayne a nod and soon gave Munchkin his heart. The calf flourished under his care, running, skipping and waving her tail. She avoided the larger calves but made friends with Ozzy and Bentley, the happy-go-lucky farm dogs. Eventually, Munchkin grew strong and confident and took her place among the herd.

            Though only a quarter of the size of a normal cow, Munchkin has proudly raised several daughters: Tootsie, Trixie and Mootilda. This has given Bradley a good start on his own herd of which he is quite proud. What started as a long-shot chance with a dwarf calf opened the door for a rascal kid to mature into a faithful husband and a faith-filled dad.  

            As a priest, I’m often privy to inspirational stories such as this. Occasionally, animals play a part in them. And why not? We have only to think of countless statues we’ve seen of St. Francis preaching to birds and petting squirrels. In a similar manner, St. Cuthbert shared his food with sparrows and, at night, otters would come and warm his feet.

            The list goes on. St. Anthony the Abbott cured a pig which then became his friend for life. St. Gertrude offered shelter to cats inside her convent. St. Hubert become a priest after encountering a buck with a crucifix wedged in its antlers.

            So, God bless Munchkin! I suspect, while munching hay, she occasionally offers a bovine prayer, “Thank you for Wayne! Thank you for Bradley! Thank you, God, for their taking good care of me!”