The story goes something like this:
Many years ago, Poppa Mercer had three women, a grandmother, a daughter and granddaughter, who worked for him on his farm. The women were hard workers. They pruned, tied, and picked rows and rows of tomatoes. Filling buckets as they crouched, picked, and scooted along. The women would talk as they worked in the morning heat. Occasionally Eloise, the daughter, would get ahead of her mother. When the work grew long, and Eloise finished her row, her mother would call out, "Help me up, Weezy." The older lady hadn't fallen; it was a call for a favor, "Help me to catch up."
Over the years, the women have been fondly remembered by Lovey's family. And one of the most repeated stories has been, "Help me up, Weezy." So, often when that phone rings, it's someone needing a help me up Weezy. Lovey ran to check on something at another field this morning, and Baby Jus called me for back up. I picked up one line of eggs before Lovey returned. When he came in he asked what I was doing there, my answer? "Jus needed a help me up Weezy."
The morning that Jus and I were trying to leave early for the lake, Lovey called in a help me up Weezy. The evening before, he had been checking a cow about to have a calf, and decided that he was disturbing her more than helping her. So early that morning he went to check her progress. The calf was still not out. And he called for backup. By the time Jus and I got to the field, Lovey had pulled the calf.
The baby had made it part of the way out on his own. And buzzards had quickly moved in, pecking his tongue. Lovey gave him a tug, and out he came. The mother ran off, so Lovey had to do her job and wipe him dry.
The plan was to load him into the back of the truck, and I would drive slowly so that Lovey and Baby Jus could ease the momma cow along to the barn. It does occasionally work. And things started nicely. She even went ahead of the truck.
Lovey gave Jus directions to just ease along. and keep her moving. He would walk and "steer" her in the right direction. Instead of leading her along, I followed behind.
We were almost there. Just a few more yards and Lovey would have her in the barn lot, when the crazy heifer decided she was NOT going to cooperate any longer. Isn't that the way it always goes? And the chase was on.
Notice now that Lovey is riding, and Baby Jus is doing the running. How did that happen? They ran that crazy cow all over the place. I even got out and did some blocking - not much running, just blocking and turning back so that they could chase.
Poor Jus had to chase her through some sticker weeds, and he had shorts on. Lovey was not happy by this time and couldn't understand why Jus wouldn't move fast enough. They chased and chased, but she would not go to the barn. She would have nothing to do with that baby either. Of course, if I had been chased around all afternoon, had something trying to get out of me all night, buzzards pecking my rump, and Lovey yanking my insides out - I might not be too cooperative either.
It was before 8 a.m. and already very hot. She hadn't had water or food. She finally just refused to move. Lovey decided it was getting to hot to continue the chase. We brought her water and put the baby nearby, hoping he would be able to suck. Later that day, Lovey moved the baby to the barn. His tongue was swollen from the buzzard pecks, but he eventually took a bottle. Sometimes the mother just won't take care of her baby. She didn't realize that when he tried to pull her calf, and again when he tried to get her to the barn for a few days of R & R, Lovey was just doing her a favor. Cows don't understand a help me up Weezy.