Walking to the ringing phone I had no idea this was the beginning of my next rescue adventure at Gemini Farm.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is XXXXXX."

"Oh, hi" I recognized the voice at the other end as a local farmer's wife and assumed she was calling about a hay delivery.

"I was talking to friend the other day and was told that you ...uh...take animals. Do you?"

"Well, yes, I do animal rescue. What's the problem?"

"I have a cat that is having a problem walking on her front legs. The vet thought she would improve on her own but she isn't. I was wondering if you would be willing to take her and try to fix her?" And I am thinking yet another unwanted cat. There are so many and just no place for them any more. The shelters are full. I wanted to suggest spaying and neutering all the barn cats but thought better of it. It's not the farmer's fault that pet owners produce unwanted litters and then dump them at an unsuspecting farm in the middle of the night.

"Sure, I can take the cat. How old is she?"

"She's two months old." Ah, a kitten. Maybe I can get her fixed and still be able to place her. My mind is racing ahead to finding a home for her as I said....

"I just need to you bring her over as I'm rather busy with the farm and work."

There was this odd hesitation and then she said..."I guess I could have the men load her and bring her over. They might not be able to get her on the truck until tomorrow but we will get her there in the next few days."

As I am listening to her talk I am thinking this is odd. Just how big is this two month old kitten that the men have to load her in a truck....and then it hit me!

"Uh...is this a CALF?"

"Yes."

I started to laugh and then apologized for sounding so uncaring. "I'm sorry, I thought you said CAT. That doesn't change anything. Of course I can take her!"

As I hung up the phone I couldn't help wonder whether the, soon to arrive, calf was the next rescue adventure or the next unavoidable rescue tragedy. There was no way to know.

I hurried home from work the next night so I could get all the animal chores, both inside and out, done before the calf got delivered. Her stall was ready, my husband was informed of the arrival and I was anxious. Would we be able to help her? How bad could her legs be?

The truck came down the road slowly and as I watched it pull in the driveway I could see this little 'cow butt' sticking up in the back. No front end...just the rear end sticking up over the edge of the truck. I had this feeling that this one was going to be bad...and I was right.

We put the tail gate down and the farmer and I lifted the calf out of the back of the truck and down on the ground. She made me want to cry....yet she was as bold and happy as any two month old calf. She had no idea those twisted underdeveloped legs were anything but normal.

As she scurried along on her knees, the lower half of her leg, from knee to foot just sort of flopped as the legs moved. She couldn't use that part of her leg at all and they had started to atrophy and rotate inward so the legs crossed each other as she attempted to walk. Because she couldn't stand her shoulders did not develop correctly and they too were underdeveloped. Dear God, what have I gotten myself into!! ?? As we got her into her stall she started bellowing to the other animals. She was confused. She was looking for all her friends and they weren't there. Life was changing for her and I couldn't help but wonder if this change was the next step in the road to euthanasia. The confidence I felt after getting off the phone was gone. Her legs were very bad. Her shoulders were bad....very bad....but we had to try. She had an attitude and a will to live and I wasn't going to deny her the chance.

Her first home cared enough about her to call me and now it was my turn to do the right thing....so I called my vet and set up an appointment. As I told her what I saw she told me what I needed to have on hand when she arrived the next night. We needed a four foot section of PVC pipe and my husband to cut the pipe and assist with applying the PVC splints that hopefully would straighten out her legs. I warned my husband and went and bought the pipe...along with a bag of milk replacer because she had a hard time reaching the bucket of water with her legs in the way.

When she arrived she had no name. She just had to have a name and it had to mean something. At work there were suggestions and my car pool friend suggested several names. Some of the suggestions from helpful co workers and friends included Angel, Sweetie, Sticks, Precious and more that I can't remember right now. Most were thinking of kind and gentle names but I wanted a name that would remind me of why she was here. Sticks because of her legs that were so useless...but no, not good. Then it came to me. What about the PVC pipe. PVC wasn't a good name but we could call her Piper....pipe...Piper. Yes!!! It fit.

What's in a name? Why the big long process to find just the right name? Well, the name, to me is part of who that animal, or even child, is. Children get names at birth and as they grow older they often acquire nick names that better describe them. I see animals the same. Find a name that fits that animal...not a name that is popular at that time. One name suggested for Piper was Angel. It's a beautiful name but she is just so far from being an angel that it would have been terribly inappropriate. Piper is a cow brat and had I named her Angel I would have had to change it. If Piper had four normal legs she would be the problem child in the barn...or the kid that always gets sent to the principal's office at school. She is no Angel.

I have cats with names that I cannot remember. Part of the reason is my advancing old age, part is that there are just so darn many cats that it's hard to keep them all straight but the other reason is that some names are just names with no meaning. Many many years ago my husband was diagnosed with cancer. His treatments took six months and two surgeries and I think it was as hard on me mentally as it was on him physically. There was a kitten at work that I just loved and he suggested I get the kitten. Normally he doesn't suggest I get any animal as he knows they tend to find their way to our home...but he seemed to know I needed a bright spot in my life and that kitten would be that bright spot. I just knew that I had to give her a name that meant something. Fluffy wasn't good enough...there had to be a very special name out there that would explain her purpose in my life. So I thought about it. Lets see....cancer? No can't name her cancer. That is a terrible reminder. Can't name her chemotherapy. That too held too many bad memories. Where do I go with these words. And then it came to me. I will name her Sabie. I remembered a character in the westerns of 30 years ago....an Indian called Kemosabi who was a friend of the Lone Ranger. Kemo...sounds like Chemo. Sabie isn't harsh but when I think about it I think Kemo...chemo...cancer...my husband....a bright spot in a dark time in my life. Sabie was her name and I never forgot it. Sadly, Sabie was put to sleep in 2004 because she had cancer.

Piper's name will never let me forget why she came to me. It will give her that special place in my mind and heart that won't get shoved aside or forgotten. Piper's future isn't clear but not matter what happens she will always be with me...her spirit wrapped around her name and allowing me to remember an image of a spunky little heifer calf with twisted legs that didn't know she was different and didn't care about the future. A calf that just wanted her bottle and a few friends to make life worth living.

Guarded prognosis ....

Nothing ever seems to be simple and Piper's arrival at Gemini Farm was no different. It was clear that praying for her speedy recovery or wishing her to get better weren't going to work without the expert assistance of our farm vet....Terri. I called and discussed Piper's condition and we set an appointment date to start, what we hoped would be, successful treatment of her condition.

Terri arrived on the farm two days after Piper arrived and part of me welcomed her arrival and that other part of me, the part that knew Piper might be too bad off to save, wanted to avoid that first critical exam. Would she tell me there is no hope?

Well, she said there was hope but very very little and I should prepare for the worst. So I did...in my heart and in my head and we proceeded to try and save this silly little calf who didn't know she was different.

We wrapped Pipers legs the fist time in her stall. The pipe provided a bit of support but her shoulders were so weak and her legs so damaged that she still couldn't stand and ultimately the wraps only lasted about two days and we had to have Terri back to rewrap them.

The second time we decided to take her into the kitchen where the light was better and we had a better surface to work on. Piper was a two month old Holstein calf. She was VERY heavy. The problem would be getting her from the barn to the house and back. Dragging her seemed so cruel. Carrying her was out of the question. Then it hit us. Give her the anesthesia that she was going to need so we could really work on her legs in the barn, lift her into the wheel barrel and then wheel her to the house, up the wheel chair ramp and into the kitchen. Worked like a charm. Once in the house we gently slid her out of the wheel barrel and onto the floor.

During that week she played, bellowed to everyone that would listen and drank her bottles with an joy and abandonment that delighted all that met her. We continued to hope. As the week went by I watched for signs of improvement. I encouraged her to stand on her front legs but she could not. Yes, once in a while she would put one of those twisted legs out in front of her and try to stand. I would cheer her on. But finally it was time to call Terri and look at the legs.

Terri came and I just knew that all hope had vanished. As we slowly unwrapped Piper's legs it became apparent that not only didn't they straighten out but they were not growing at the same rate that the rest of Piper's body and legs were growing. The truth was...we had failed. She would never walk and never enjoy life on earth to it's fullest.

Piper was put to sleep that night...with the people that loved her standing by. Her twisted legs won and we had lost but we know that Piper is now playing in green pastures with straight legs and a twinkle in her eye. She has joined all of those furry friends and family of Gemini Farm that have left this earth for a place where playing and loving and God's gentle touch overcomes all illness and obstacles. Some night...when the moon is bright look very closely. It just might be that you will see Piper.....joyously jumping over the moon.

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