Calf in the canyon!!!

We've been on the road a lot today.  Cliff told me to call Rasa Orchard and see if they had Fuji apples, and finally they did!  Bushels, half-bushels, and pecks.  We went and picked up two bushels.  Not for cooking, but for eating.  They keep well, and should last us until Thanksgiving or later.  
Since we were sort of on the way to Higginsville, and they have the cleanest, best, most awesome Pizza Hut in the world, we went there and had dinner.  
Later on we helped somebody move a few things to a new residence.  When we got home it was 5:30.  I fed my bobby calves their bottles.  When I came in, I said to Cliff, "I've been checking on Babe and Annie twice a day, morning and evening.  I think you should take the evening watch."  
"I'm the chauffeur around here.  I've done enough for one day."  
"I guess I won't check tonight then," says I.  
"OK, but if the calf dies it's on your conscience."   
The cow and calf seemed fine this morning, and I was going to skip the evening checkup.  But somehow I just couldn't.  I started toward the back of the place and heard a cow bawling.  
Cows don't bawl like that for no reason, and I was pretty sure I knew what the problem was.  You see, about a third of our property consists of canyons.  There is a reason why the name of the road I live on is "Old Canyon Road".  Last year a calf fell into a canyon, and the year before, too.  I kept walking until I located Babe, then returned to the house to get Cliff.  
"I didn't look down to see the calf," I said.  "I was afraid to, for fear she might be dead or have a broken limb."  
We took a brand new calf halter I recently bought for Gracie, and a short rope, just in case that might aid in getting the calf out of the ditch.  
Turns out the calf wasn't very far down, thank the Good Lord.

She had landed on a shelf of dirt above the deepest part of the canyon, and was more-or-less stuck where she landed.  This was a good thing.  

Babe bawled nonstop, so much that we couldn't even carry on a conversation.  "My baby," I think she was saying.  "I want my BABY!"  

Cliff put the halter on Annie and handed me the rope.  He pushed, and I pulled.  

Babe supervised the procedure, not too happily, I might add.

The reunion was sweet.  This is how all cow/calf reunions end.

Back at the house, I said, "I guess it's a good thing I did my evening cow-watch, huh?"  
"Yeah," my husband answered.  "Or you'd have had a dead calf in the morning."
"Oh, I don't think she would have died overnight."  
"She could have.  Coyotes could have gotten her."  

Where's my cape?  I think I am Wonder Woman.