Days the Vets Came Days the vets came — they came often — We were there to meet them when they pulled in. They drove station wagons out of which The back seats had been torn to make room For the horizontal chests of drawers In which their bright tools were stored. We hung around until they noticed us And gave us the honor of giving us something To carry — a pail of hot water we were careful Not to spill a drop of, free arm swung out For counterbalance — and followed them Into the barn where the downed cow lay.