Remember yesterday’s gripping narrative of my flighty salad-bar beef and the ensuing chase? And how all was well in the end?
That’s what I thought until just around dinner time, when the supposedly fenced-in cows came to dinner as we were sitting down on our deck.
And I don’t mean on a plate.
Now remember, my husband’s out of town.
At first I couldn’t figure out how the heck they got out for the third time in one day.
Oh, and my three-year-old son began to cry hysterically when a cow stopped to taste the lawn decoration-type thing he made out of colored paper and tape.
“Take it away from the cow, mommy, take it away from the cow!” he kept screaming, trying to get me to save his precious artifact from the beast’s clenched jaws.
Now I love my son and all, but I had to explain to him that I wasn’t gonna do it. And so he wailed:
“MOMMY! I WANT TO EAT THOSE COWS! LET’S EAT THOSE COWS!”
Translation: “Let’s kill them and eat them so they don’t steal our stuff anymore!”
Don’t worry son, you’ll get your revenge. Don’t you know it’s the dish best served cold? Or, in this case, hot.
Anyhow, because it was right around my kids’ bedtime and about to get dark, I decided I would let the cows be for the night and deal with the problem in the morning – they couldn’t really leave the farm anyhow, which was fenced all the way around.
All evening I listened to the steers wandering in the yard like ghosts of people who left some business unfinished between my garden and deck. Eventually, though, I realized that I had forgotten to fence off a remote section of the pasture, thereby unwittingly allowing them to escape.
It wasn’t their fault, after all! They just wanted to go on a field trip and saw a way.
I am a fine example of a farmer’s wife, I know!
Don’t hire me.
I mean, don’t marry me if you’re a farmer.
Actually, that’s not really possible anyway, so nevermind.
On the upside, I had guard cows in my yard all night: big and scary!
Thankfully, once I figured out what the problem was, same friend agreed to come out and help me tackle the situation for good in the am, while my mother-in-law was here watching my three kids.
It’s so wonderful to have family and friends.
It’s what my husband calls “social capital.”
Oh, and you shouda seen me using the end of my bright-yellow broom for poking the cows to make them move into where I wanted them to go. I’ll give you a moment to imagine it.
Now, do I look like a cowgirl to you?
Nevermind, don’t answer that.
But what a relief to finally have them back in!
My yard no longer resembles a Marc Chagall painting, with cow faces in all the wrong places.
The cowpies can now return to the earth.
The children can roam freely.
Oh, and I highly recommend chasing livestock as a way of getting high legally!
I wish I could have tackled the situation like a normal person from the beginning, but sometimes I can be really, really slow. Still, I am glad my kids could witness the whole debacle – it’s just as useful when they watch us struggle and succeed.