Denver, Colorado. A family gathering. I was wearing a dress. I think it was a wedding reception. Denver had a lot urban sprawl in the Eighties. I slipped away across a field, kept walking. Until I couldn’t hear clinking glasses; I lost the voices. I was in the countryside. There might’ve been horses. There were definitely cows. I found a little calf all by itself. We studied each other for a minute or two. Those big eyes. Spindly, knobbly legs. Round tummy. Just a baby, standing, looking. People will give you mixed messages, but animals never do. I squeezed through the paddock fence, and wrapped my arms around the little calf’s neck. We settled into a long, comfortable standing snuggle. I didn’t let go until a small posse of alarmed relatives came to retrieve me. It felt wrong to walk away.