Little Bit got his name because he was born a little bit late, to say the least, to an old pet cow named Mama Cass who had been having reproductive problems. She’d lost two calves prior to Little Bit, so she was especially devoted to and fiercely—and I do mean fiercely—protective of him. Perhaps she sensed that he’d be her last calf.
Little Bit didn’t stay little for long. Mama was a good milker, and Little Bit had inherited her easy-fleshing ability (cattleman lingo for “pleasantly plump”). This is a desirable trait for range cattle that have to earn their living in lean times, such as drought or snowpack, but ours always have plenty of good pasture or hay--maybe even a little bit too much.
Cattle aren’t known for being fastidious, but Little Bit was rather particular about his water. He’d use his tongue to clear the surface before he drank, deftly sweeping the water clean of drowned bugs and little bits of grass or hay that the other cows had left behind. I found this peculiar habit amusing, but the thirsty cattle which were waiting impatiently behind him for their turn to drink were a little bit less impressed.
“The word that saves is right here, as near as the tongue in your mouth, as close as the heart in your chest. It’s the word of faith that welcomes God to go to work and set things right for us.” –ROMANS 10:8 (MSG)