
Many animals are vulnerable to the risks of cold weather, just like people are. They are susceptible to conditions like hypothermia and frostbite, so it is always encouraging when people go above and beyond to keep them warm.
Like the farmer who used a really creative and surprising solution to improvise and rescue the life of a freezing baby cow.

Dean Gangwer farms in Rossville, Indiana, and he raises cattle there. In 2015, Dean came upon a surprising new addition to his property on a chilly morning.
He had no idea that one of his cows had given birth in the middle of the night. Sadly, she gave birth to her calf on top of a mound of snow, and the little one was now freezing.
Dean struggled to keep his eyes open and could see that the calf was breathing heavily. In an attempt to save the cow, he raced it to his house.
Using his knowledge of cattle, he determined that the calf required a hot bath. and Dean just so happened to have his hot tub, the ideal cow-sized bath, ready to go!

As strange as it may sound, the strategy was a huge success.
Leroy and I had a wonderful bath for an hour after I got in fully clothed and held him up to prevent him from drowning, Dean said WRTV. “We both came out warm and I think the end story’s going to be great for him.”
Warm, warming blankets were put around the farmer’s calf following that calming jacuzzi session.

The calf’s name is Leroy. The cow was soon prepared to rejoin the herd when his body temperature stabilized.
While the farmer’s decision to share his hot tub with the cows was a thoughtful and quick decision that helped rescue the small cow, he says that it won’t happen often.
“Leroy has concluded his hot-tubbing,” he declared. “His days in the hot tub are definitely over, but he may still sunbathe occasionally in the grass in the future.”
My Neighbor Kept Hanging out Her Panties Right in Front of My Son’s Window, So I Taught Her a Real Lesson

The underwear of my neighbor turned into the star of a suburban farce, stealing the show directly outside my son’s 8-year-old window. Jake’s innocent question about whether her thongs were slingshots made me realize that the “panty parade” needed to end and that it was time to teach her some prudence when doing the laundry.
Oh, suburbia: a place where everything seems perfect, the air filled with the scent of freshly cut grass, and life goes on without incident until someone changes everything. At that point, Lisa, our new neighbor, showed up. Everything had been rather quiet until wash day, when I saw something for the first time that had caught me off guard: a rainbow of her panties flapping outside Jake’s window like flags at a dubious parade.I nearly choked on my coffee one afternoon while folding Jake’s superhero underwear and happened to look out the window. And there they were, lacy and blazing pink and very much on show. Ever the inquisitive child, my son glanced over my shoulder and posed the dreaded query, “Mom, why is Mrs. Lisa wearing her underpants outside? And why are there strings on some of them? Are they for her hamster companion?I tried to explain between choked laughter and horrified astonishment. However, Jake’s imagination was running wild as he pondered whether Mrs. Lisa had aerodynamically engineered underpants and was indeed a superhero. He even expressed a desire to participate, proposing that his Captain America boxers be displayed next to her “crime-fighting gear.” Jake would get curious and Lisa’s laundry would flap in the breeze on a daily basis. But I realized it was time to terminate this farce when he offered to hang his own underpants next to hers. So, prepared to settle the dispute amicably, I marched over to her residence. Before I could say anything, Lisa answered the door and made it plain that she wasn’t going to break her laundry routine for anyone. She dismissed my worries with a laugh, advised me to “loosen up,” and even gave me style tips for my own clothes. Despite my frustration, I remained resolute and devised a cleverly trivial scheme. Using the brightest fabric I could find, I made the biggest, flashiest pair of granny panties ever that evening. When Lisa departed the following day, I hung my work of art directly in front of her window. When she came back, the sight of the enormous underwear with a flamingo print almost took her breath away. It was worth every stitch to watch her lose her cool trying to take down my practical joke. After a while, she gave in and agreed to shift her laundry somewhere less noticeable, all the while I silently celebrated my success. After that, Lisa’s laundry disappeared from our shared vision, and everything returned to normal. What about me? In the end, I had some flamingo-themed curtains that served as a constant reminder of the day I prevailed in the suburban laundry war.
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