Days of Anime and Animus

My ancient armchair has holes worn in the floral chintz fabric. This should enact my Jungian Animus sense. I should be jumping to recover it, put it on the list- however long the list may be. But, instead, I peer at it and see the wonderful shabbiness accorded by wear. I think of English drawing rooms, all buttoned up and stuffy and preserved, and their sibling, the English sitting room- where the people actually sit. To read, or puff on their pipes, surrounded by elegant-limbed lurchers and spastic, muddy pawed Springers. These rooms, the sitting ones, are so - used. The chintz is just like mine, worn clear through. There are books and soft yellow light from lamps with three threads of cloth covered wire. All this from some holes in my chair. Musing on the little things- my Anime.
On the other hand, while rounding the corner on the potholed squish of a dirt road on my way home today, I noticed a beef cow with a strange posture. A hundred yards down the road I started back in reverse as things clicked in my mind and the sense of trouble lurked. Sure enough, there at the feet of the cow is a fairly new calf in real trouble. Breathing barely, heart very slow, dying. I called the farmer on my cell phone to alert him to the distressed baby, then drove on, so as to not block the single lane path. Now, my animus is in overdrive, thinking of  possible causes and scenarios, and wondering if the calf is still amongst the bovine living. No sense in calling the farmer. If the poor mite is dead, can't do a durn thing. If it is still alive, and in my neighbor's kitchen, I've no real medicine to add. Just curiosity, and lists. The Animus.