Edgar’s Mission Passport
Some Days
Some Days
13th May 2023
I have 3.5 legs
Happy Days
Certified true likeness
Some Days’s story

Some Days

Updated June 2, 2023

Some days we wonder how we humans have arrived at where we are in our chequered relationship with animals. And then some days we realise that we can lament the past, accepting that we had no hand in that; our only hand lies in shaping the present.

The day little Some Days came into our world was one of the latter. Just days old, we learned of her plight: born into the dairy industry, things were never going to go well for her. It would have either been years of servitude, forced impregnation and separation from her much-loved babies, or a very short and loveless life, with a brutal and cruel end.

But for Some Days, a third option came onto the horizon.

She was born with a malformed front left leg. And although some may see her as a three-and-half-legged wee calf, we see her as so much more.

And luckily for her, so too did the kind heart who reached out and ensured her rescue.

So weak was Some Days when she came into care, her little sides had all caved in, as too had her spirit

Inspiration, we have found, doesn’t always come from the finest human minds, master thinkers or clever wordsmiths, but from the everyday actions of animals to soldier on and make the most of life, despite the hand life has dealt them, or the label we humans have placed upon them.

Some Days fits this bill. And then some.

So weak was Some Days when she came into care, her little sides had all caved in, as too had her spirit. And while she could barely stand, we could barely stand to think what would have become of her fate had kindness not intervened.

And when we attempted to offer her a bottle of much-needed, sweet and nourishing formula, her enthusiasm to grasp its goodness between her teeth contrasted with a body that could not.

Starfish-like she became as she slumped to the floor, her three-and-a-half legs all pointing in a different direction.

Both physically and emotionally we helped her to stand, and, supported by our body and good wishes, she was able to drink. A first feebly, but this soon gave way to feverish. And each time she has done so since, we are pleased to report it was not only her sides that became plumped.

Looking at the bright wee calf with the cute little white squiggle on her forehead, the one who stands cheekily before us today, her upper lip seductively curling and courting the bottle she spies coming her way, our love overflows. And we cannot but hear the whispers of our heart reminding us that in a world that is not always kind to animals, some days we can make it so.