Presidents Message
Dr. Dave Sjeklocha
Blessings in the Strangest of Places
The phone rang at 2 a.m. and I rolled out of bed to answer it. “Vet clinic, this is Dave.” “Dave?” I recognized the voice and it immediately sent chills down my spine. It was calving season in southwest Nebraska and the caller was Elizabeth, the wife of a rancher client. She and Wes were in their 70s and Wes walked with a cane. Elizabeth was able-bodied enough. The first time I met them, I shook hands with them both. I remember thinking when I shook her hand that it felt like I had stuck my hand into the pocket of a baseball glove. That woman’s hands were huge! They ran about 300 head of Brangus cows (yes, Brangus cows in Nebraska!) with no outside help, except from their local veterinarian. They were some of the kindest people I had ever met.
“Yes, this is Dave,” I said. “Dave, this is Elizabeth and we have a heifer having trouble calving. Would you be able to come out and help?” I then asked the question that all bovine veterinarians ask, as failure to do so could result in loss of licensure: “Do you have her caught, Elizabeth?” I knew the answer, which is why I had chills when I heard her voice. “No, Dave, you know how Wes and I are. We couldn’t get her up to the barn.” Wes didn’t like to talk on the phone, so Elizabeth did all the calling and Wes would tell her what to say. So, I got to hear everything twice. “Sure, Elizabeth, I can come out. Where is she?” Wes gave Elizabeth instructions (which included the phrase, “go easy over that bridge, she’s a little weak”) that she repeated to me on how to get to the pasture, and I wrote them down.
Miraculously, I found the pasture and located Wes and Elizabeth waiting in their pickup. Wes rolled down his window and said, “She’s over by the canyon lip. What do you want me to do?” I said, “Well, I’ll need some light to get her caught, so stay as far back as you can, but shine your headlights on her.” We eased over toward her and I slipped out of my pickup and grabbed my rope (I’m a recovering team roper, so I can catch cattle). She was getting agitated as I approached her. I moved in quickly.
She got up and took off running! I took chase, swinging my rope as I closed in. I quickly ran out of headlight beam and she vanished into the darkness. In desperation, I threw my rope in the direction that I last saw her running, letting all the coils go and grabbing on to the tail of the rope with both hands!
Of course, I knew I wouldn’t catch her, but I still hung on like I thought I might. Suddenly, the rope came tight and nearly jerked my shoulders out of their sockets! The heifer bellered and kept going! I was running to keep up with her, and let me tell ya, Usain Bolt had nothing on me! Wes heard the commotion and he gunned his pickup and yelled out the window, “By golly, ya caught ‘er!” As I ran into the blackness, I heard barbed wire stretching and popping and the rope went limp. I kept running, thinking, “Now’s my chance!” Wes’s lights flashed on her and she had run through a fence and was down, trying to get up to run again. I hustled over and wrapped my rope around a post, and we had her tethered.
It was an easy pull, but the heifer ran off into the blackness, leaving her calf when I removed my rope. The three of us discussed how to care for the calf as I cleaned up my equipment at my pickup. About then, we heard a muffled noise and looked over where the calf was laying and the heifer was back, licking the calf. Mother Nature had come through again.
All of that to say this: I think back on those days with Wes and Elizabeth fondly. They were so appreciative and I considered it a true blessing to have had them as clients. Good, salt-of-the-earth people who needed my help. It was always a fulfilling experience. I hope you all understand what a blessing it is for me to serve as your President and how much of a blessing each of you are to each other, your clients and to AABP. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Dr. Dave Sjeklocha
