Free Medicine Wheel by Ron Schwab

was tied to a scrub oak tree. He decided he should just be glad they had her roped and tied.
      When he arrived, Jasper, a stocky, fair-skinned rancher in his mid-fifties, who seemed to have a perpetual sunburn, was pacing back and forth like an expectant father. His son, Junior, a younger version of his father, sat Indian-style in the grass nearby, puffing slowly on a just-rolled cigarette.
    Thad dismounted, nodded at the ranchers and walked over to the heifer. She was still on her feet and strong enough yet to strain against the rope. He noted she was a Hereford, but small and bred too young. Jasper ran a sloppy operation when it came to keeping young breeding heifers separated from the bulls until they were proper age and size.
    “I need a tail holder,” Thad said.
    Luke ran up and grabbed the heifer’s tail, hanging on tight as she commenced kicking. The tail holder helped by pulling the tail to the side and giving the vet a better view of the animal’s vulva so he could make an initial appraisal of the problem. More important, he helped by controlling the heifer’s rear-end and, with some luck, deterring a few kicks—a vet’s shins tended to be perpetually bruised.
    Thad saw two small hooves peeking through the swollen flesh of the vulva. He would usually expect to see the beginning of the calf’s nose at this stage—his guess was that the head was turned back, blocking exit from the womb. “Do you have a place close by where you can get some clean water? Do you have a bucket?”
    “No on both counts, Doc.”
    Thad stripped down to his waist and retrieved some short chains with narrow links Quincy Belmont had fashioned for him, as well as a bottle of bean oil he’d been using for lubricant lately. Quincy had also devised some cylindrical handles, each with a hook welded midway between the ends. Applying a generous helping of the oil to his hands, he moved in behind the heifer. “Hang on to that tail like your life depends on it, Luke.”
    “I’ll do my best, Doc.”
    Junior hadn’t moved since his arrival, although he had rolled and lighted another cigarette. Jasper, on the other hand, watched the proceedings intently. “You going to get me a live calf, Doc?” he asked.
    “I don’t know. I think the calf’s head is turned back and that’s not good. And Mama’s not much more than a calf herself. You’re letting these heifers get bred too damn young, Jasper. You’re begging for calving trouble.”
    Unfazed by Thad’s scolding, Jasper asked, “What’s this going to cost me?”
    “Two dollars.”
    “Shit. I’ll go you double or nothing for a live calf.”
    “You’re on.” Thad began working his oily fingers into the heifer’s vagina and she reared and kicked, missing him by an inch. To his credit, Luke held on to the tail and soon had her under control. Thad’s arm was quickly buried to the elbow, his fingers probing, functioning as his eyes in the dark cavern. He began pushing the calf back the way it came, leaving some room to latch onto the nose and, both hands working now, got purchase and straightened the head.
    The calf moved forward and the nose and front feet poked through the vulva. The heifer strained and pushed mightily, bawling loudly with pain several times. Thad could see the route out for this calf was just too narrow. In spite of slick and bloody hands, he quickly hitched the chains to the front feet, and then hooked the handles onto the ends of the chains. “Junior, we need some muscle over here.”
    “Shit, I’m not no good at this stuff.”
    “Junior,” his father yelled, “Get your fat ass off the ground and lend a hand.”
    Mumbling to himself, Junior got up and stumbled over to the cow. Thad put the handles in his hands. “You just hold onto these and keep the chains taut, and put your weight into it and pull when I say so.”
    He put some more lubricant on his hands and began to slick the vulva and lower vagina to help ease the calf’s journey. He knew that