35 years ago I was interviewing for my first job. The vet and I were called for an Angus cow with milk fever, down in the middle of 160 acres of cornstalks.
Mid-March had brought some nice showers and the mud was deep. No chance of getting a vehicle close to the patient, Doc and I slogged the quarter-mile out to her afoot.
The cow came around about half way through the second bottle of calcium and we had to hold her down to finish. She wasn't happy. Caught our breath, yanked the ropes off her and made a break for it.
We were about 20 yards from her when got to her feet. With about 10 pounds of mud stuck to each boot, she was gaining fast.
Doc yelled, "Split up!" We did, and it seemed to confuse her as which of us she should kill first. Took turns running and jumping/waving to get her attention. About 200 yards like that and she finally gave up.
Not all my patients want to kill me, but this one did!
