Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The Grass Is Always Greener

...in our front yard, apparently. 

I was making supper this evening wearing my apron, pearls and high heels, of course. Or my clearance Old Navy PJ pants and a National Guard T-shirt (gotta represent you know!), and slipper socks, same diff.  ANYWAY, I happened to walk past a window looking out into our front yard and had to back up and be sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me, because this is what I saw...

Uhh excuse me, there's a cow in my front yard.  

This isn't normal even for us.  I had no idea how he got out as gates were closed and fences secure, but I knew he had to be put back in the fenced pasture where he belongs because as farmer laws go, if your cow/horse/llama/etc wanders out into the road and a car hits it, the owner of the wandering animal is fully responsible and could stand to lose the farm so to speak, if there is serious damage or injury.  I learned that in one of my Farm Girl 101 classes aka when my mother in law and GI Joe chased a herd of the neighbor's cattle down the road and back to their pasture while wearing their Sunday best before church one Sunday morning.  I wish I would've photographed that because THAT my friends, was a sight to behold.  But that's what neighbors in the country do for each other, herd each others cattle to protect them from lawsuits.  Sure could've used my neighbors tonight.  

May I interject here (of course I can it's my blog) and tell you that just as in the case of nearly every other farm emergency we've encountered, GI Joe was still at work?!? Because he was.  So once again it was all up to me.  That's something you don't see on Army Wives, how the wives who are left at home while their husbands are off on top secret missions (or recruiting) have to round up all manner of escaped livestock because they have a cow in their front yard.   But I'm here to tell you it happens.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, I need my own show. 

So I switched out my high heels slipper socks for mud boots, put on a jacket over my dress and pearls PJ pants and National Guard Tshirt and headed outside to remove the cow from my front yard.  So you know, the usual.  The good news is that since Holy Cow is no ordinary cow and more of an oversized puppy dog,  all I had to do was talk sweet to him and pet him a little bit to get him to follow me.  So we walked down the hill towards the  to the pasture but because he is a) pretty much a teenager and b) a boy, he got distracted by the pond and thought it would be more fun to stuff his face with long, luscious, green grass, completely ignoring me as I stood at the gate in the pouring rain calling for him to keep following me.  I could've done what real cattle ranchers do and either had my Australian Cattle Dog yip and nip at Holy's feet to herd him to the gate or hop on a horse with my 10 gallon hat and say things like "Hiyaaah" (oh wait, maybe that's karate?) and "Giddyup" and corral him in all while twirling a lasso in the air.  There were only two problems with those options, of our 4 dogs none of them are known for their herding skills.  Which is odd because you would think in all their time guarding Chinese emperors pugs would've had to chase off a wandering cow or two right?  Apparently not.   The other problem was that as much as I love our horses, I'm not exactly a cowgirl.  Shocking, I know, but it's true.  So even if they'd been nearby and I would've been able to hop on (as if) the likelihood that I would actually be able to get them to move in a controlled manner, let alone well enough to lead Holy into the gate, were slim.  So I did what any hard headed woman would do, I  grabbed the literal 1100 pound used-to-be-bull by the horns (that he only has for 4 more days) and tried to drag him to the gate.  That worked out splendidly...except not.  Instead of moving, he stopped eating grass long enough to look at me in pity as if to say, "Really?"  I started running back up the hill towards the house to get some sweet feed to entice him with because we all know the way to a cow's heart is through his stomach(s).  And just as I started running, Holy looked up, realized I was leaving him, and started running after me, as if it's totally normal for a girl and her cow to go on an evening jog.  I'm no dummy I jogged right back down the hill and through the gate, right back into the pasture, with Holy by my side.  Mission accomplished!  Prairie Princess=1 Holy Cow=0. 

I'm totally adding Cattle Herder to my already impressive farm girl resume, don't try to stop me or I'll put YOU out to pasture too. 

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