Early this morning, Christian called me from his truck, speeding
home from the studio.
He told me our cows had gotten out and asked that
I get them back asap because
they were wandering around our neighbor's pastures.
Luckily, Jane was home and could watch Minnie
while I ran outside in my PJs and Crocs to assess the damage.
Maybe the full moon spooked them, or perhaps the spooky
World War Z zombie coyotes stopped and paid them a visit last night
and they trampled the fence?
I went to the pasture, where several dudes from the other farm
on 4-wheelers were trying to round up our cows.
I waved my arms at them to try to get them to STOP.
They looked at me, speechless.
I'm sure they thought I was an idiot.
But I knew what I was doing.
Also, rounding them up this way is literally the worst thing for cows.
And Christian has nurtured these cows to expect low-stress everything,
so this was really overstimulating to them, and they were not obeying.
Until I got there.
I had a bucket of grain and started pounding it.
They perked up and, one by one, followed me
back into the pasture. I felt a little bit like the Pied Piper.
It was like Babe the pig when he calmly arranged the sheep in the pen
at the competition. No one thought a pig could do a dog's job.
Well, these "cowboys" thought this burned PJ, croc-wearing, no-bra-mama
couldn't do this job either.
(Does anyone know what I am talking about? Babe the movie?
Also, I am definitely NOT comparing
myself to a pig or a man to a dog. Or am I?)
Later in the afternoon, Christian and I grabbed lunch with Minnie
then went to Walmart, where
pumpkins were selling for $3.89, perfect for the youth
pumpkin carving and pizza night tonight.
Minnie was in
punkin heaven as we packed 20 large
pumpkins into two carts and into Christian's truck.
She kept waving at them, fully expecting them to wave back.
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