Part 2
Hank didn’t follow the movement. His paw stayed flat on the rubber, and his tail made a soft tap behind him. Toby listened, reached again and lowered his trunk across the dog’s toes; when they flexed beneath it, he let it remain there.
Samuel still held the unattached leash, although Hank was doing nothing that required it. The calf’s trunk had loosened across the paw, and he was no longer braced against the wall. Samuel let that quiet continue before finding out how Toby would manage when the dog got up.
At eighty minutes he moved away from the door controls. Hank flicked an ear back and gave a soft chuff before freeing his paw; hay dropped from his coat as he stood. Samuel got the clip onto the collar, watching the calf leave his trunk on the exposed rubber.
Toby stayed there while they went out. Rafael caught the door and closed it without a bang, and Jo joined Samuel beyond the latch. He had been prepared for another retreat into the corner; it hadn’t come.
“I’d like to bring him again,” Jo said.
“Tomorrow, if they’re both well enough. Keep offering milk between visits.” Samuel passed the leash from one hand to the other. “We still need him to eat.”
Before Samuel took Hank over on Tuesday, Beth had a small change to report. The dog still needed her hand at breakfast, but afterward he had investigated the dish with his nose. Samuel brought that detail with him, wondering what another visit might allow them to offer Toby.
Samuel kept track of what no longer happened. The door could open without Toby trying to flatten himself against the wall; Hank could finish nosing about and lie down without the calf flinching. On Wednesday the reaching trunk arrived before Hank had quite settled, resting below the old scar.
After Wednesday’s visit, Samuel went over the feeding sheet with Jo. She had been recording the changes they saw when Hank was there, but those observations accompanied another loss in weight. The next offer needed to reach Toby while he had that reassuring body beside him.
“Don’t change the formula for this one,” Samuel told her. “We’ll have Rafael bring it to them tomorrow, after Hank settles.”
Jo agreed. They could try a different setting for the feed without asking Toby to accept an unfamiliar mixture as well.
The next morning, Samuel’s attention went first to Toby’s legs. They stiffened as Rafael came through the door carrying the bottle upright in a clean feed bucket. The calf lifted his trunk off Hank, and Rafael stopped before the movement could become another retreat.
Hank sniffed the warm formula. He got up to investigate, leaving Toby for the bucket, then sat with his face raised expectantly toward the bottle. His tail brushed back and forth across the mat; when Rafael failed to offer him anything, the dog whined.
Samuel nearly smiled. Here was the Labrador Beth had been unable to tempt with a dish of food, complaining about somebody else’s breakfast. Jo moved closer to the glass, and Samuel saw what had caught her attention: the calf was gathering his feet beneath him.
“Hold right there, Rafael.”
Toby struggled upright. For a moment Samuel thought he would have to go to him, but the sway diminished and the calf stood, his trunk raised toward the dog’s next whine. Samuel watched the feet through two short steps, then looked up to find Toby beside Hank.
Rafael lowered the bucket. Toby touched the black shoulder, leaving space between his feet and the dog’s paws, and began exploring beyond the familiar coat. The bottle stopped his searching trunk; he felt along its smooth wall until the tip met rubber.
He pulled away from it.
Samuel kept his eyes on Rafael, who hadn’t tried to follow the retreating trunk. The bottle stayed available. When Toby came back to it, Rafael raised the nipple to meet his mouth, and the trunk curled close as the calf’s lips closed around the rubber.
The swallow was audible at the door.
Samuel watched the milk through the bottle, waiting for another swallow. Rafael had it secured in both hands, adjusting the angle under Toby’s eager pull. The milk level fell, and he lowered the bottle for a pause before letting the calf continue.
For all his interest, Hank had received nothing from the bottle. He was still seated by the bucket when he looked toward Samuel, then turned back to the milk. During Rafael’s pause, Samuel caught Marian’s eye beyond the glass. She had stepped back, her mouth covered; he nodded as her shoulders eased.
Outside, Samuel waited while Rafael reported the amount to Jo. Her pen moved at last beside a feed Toby had taken willingly. She checked what she had written before carrying the bottle away to wash it.
Samuel kept Toby on support while Rafael and the other staff worked through the later feeds. Some offers went badly, and night brought more bottles and more checks on intake, tolerance and weight. Only when the calf was getting enough by mouth could they reduce what treatment was supplying.
By July, Samuel’s examining hand no longer met each rib quite so sharply. After a feed, Toby would investigate the empty bucket, then turn his trunk to the clean bedding and worry at it. His eyes had the same cloudiness as before.
Samuel and Jo began letting him investigate the room between feeds. They kept his surroundings predictable and watched him learn the places where a wall ended or a doorway began. Hank could cross the floor without Toby drawing himself tight, though an unfamiliar movement still made the calf stop and listen.
Samuel stood with Jo beside the open paddock doors one morning, keeping the way clear. Hank had already gone out and found a smell in the dirt; Toby followed until his forefeet reached the edge of the rubber. Beyond it lay the little outdoor yard.
Samuel felt the breeze coming through the doorway. It moved Toby’s ears and brought him the smells beyond the floor, while sunlight warmed his trunk. The dog was already several steps away; the calf kept setting his lifted foot back where it had been.
Toby wouldn’t cross the threshold.
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