Of Cowgirls and Cow Pies

August 30, 2012

in Country Living, Our Farm

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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!

Or not.

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.

{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Bronwen August 30, 2012 at 5:24 pm

I LOVE Cyrus’s comment! That boy knows how the world works! I am sitting here on my couch laughing, and feeling relieved for you that you had the help you needed to put those cows in their places!
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2 Mary Jo Vick September 8, 2012 at 2:19 pm

Sounds like what happens around here… except that we are constantly chasing goats, horses AND cows out of our yard. Our dogs are the culprits… they can open the gate and sometimes it doesn’t close. Our magnolia and crepe myrtles have suffered… but hey! It’s kinda like having ‘green’ lawn mowers!

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3 Sofya September 8, 2012 at 2:36 pm

Not counting the huge cow pies on my lawn…

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4 Mel B October 1, 2012 at 12:34 pm

OMG! You are SO funny!!! And, a little belated, but I must thank you for your very detailed guide to butchering a duck. It REALLY came in handy and made me feel so competent! You ROCK.

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