May. 07, 2002 ~ Bad, bad cows
Last weekend I said mean, nasty things about the cows. They wouldn't come when I called them; because of this, we wound up being late to a party. Long story. NO, the cows didn't go to the party with us... just never mind. Anyway, I told Husband that they were AWFUL cows, bad, bad cows, the very worst of all possible cows in the world. He smirked and smiled that superior smile, telling me that HE could get them to come when he called.
"Yeah, right. You go right ahead and try. But no fair chasing them, that's cheating."
He assured me that he wouldn't have to resort to that. They would do what he told them to. I just rolled my eyes.
About twenty minutes later, one last cow, Bessie Lou, stood beneath the pear tree in the hay meadow, oblivious to the fact that all the other cows had gone into the back pasture. Nope, she was happy where she was, and saw no reason to move. So Husband, saying some truly ugly words, took off after her. By the time he got all the way to the pear tree, he was dripping wet with sweat, and I could hear his nasty comments all the way back at the house. He picked up a stick and threw it in Bessie's direction. He missed. I burst out laughing. He took off running after her, and she ran as fast as her fat little legs would carry her. Husband was m-a-d. I couldn't stop laughing... thinking of his confident smile, that smirk on his face. Well.
That was Saturday. A walk in the park, compared to today. I arrived home from the Rotary meeting... to find Brownie Jo on the front porch. A big, ornery cow, right there on the porch. Amanda Jane was in the garden, tromping on the cucumbers. Flora Ruth was wandering aimlessly in the front yard. You get the idea. Cow poop everywhere. Goofy little calves, all upset and trying to tear through the fence.
I parked the truck in the driveway, trying to block them from getting out onto the road or the highway. The very thought made me sweat. I was expecting a friend to arrive in about fifteen minutes. She'd help me get them back up, if I could just keep them in the yard till she got there. Except fifteen minutes came and went, and no friend. During this time I'm dancing around, running this way and that, trying to keep those #!*#!* beasts contained.
Seven of them were loose in the yard; the rest were still in the pasture. How had they gotten out? sigh... Obviously, one had stuck her head through the back yard gate, raised up, and had lifted the heavy gate clean off its hinges. There it was, still latched, but lying about ten feet away, in the hay meadow. At that point I was thinking those seven traitors would make some mighty fine hamburger. Brats!
On the answering machine was a message from the friend, telling me she'd be an hour late. Eventually I managed to get the little stinkers back in the proper pastures. It was like playing musical cows. First they had to go HERE, then THERE, then back over HERE. Turned out yet another animal was in the wrong place, too. A little heifer had gotten into a forbidden area, was stuck and couldn't get out. Whose idea was it for us to have COWS, anyway? Not mine!
It all got sorted out, with a minimum of pain for the cows and a whole lot of sweat on my part. But you don't even want to know what I was thinking about those cows, for a couple of hours today. It wasn't nice, not nice at all.
But I've forgiven them. Kind of.
Maybe.
Until the next time.
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