I’ve been asked by former city-fied friends what it is like being married to my husband. Most of the people asking are pretty much people like me. If they stepped in a cow-paddy, it was certainly by accident. And they would be wondering why there was a cow wandering in the city.
I still remember when Alpha Hubby broke the news to me that his dream, his heart’s desire, was to raise cattle. Yeah, I was so thrilled! Really!! No, really. I was thrilled he had a dream he wanted to accomplish. But cows? Hmmm…
So when my friends ask me about the cows, I try to tell a few stories of what I’ve learned or discovered over the few years we’ve been raising cattle. They like the playful stories: huge bulls dancing in the fields, calves chasing one another, beautiful big baby eyelashes, and my boots.
Yeah, my life. Went from receiving things like this as gifts:
Now granted, there was a reason for this gifting. He was going out of town and was setting it up for me to feed the cows. I was going to have to go into the corral and put some sweet feed in a few feeders.
So alrighty, I’m set. No cow additives to my flip flops. Just rinse those boots and all is well. Or not.
It isn’t the cow by-product that got me. It was the cows. As I mentioned in my first post, I wasn’t wild about being close up to cattle – they freak me out. It’s mainly because they’re bigger than me, probably because of that 12 year old girl standing frozen in a cow pasture (the first cow I met) at the sight of a cow in my way going back to the house. That was when I decided I never needed to meet another cow.
Meanwhile back at the ranch. I thought I’d be smart and get the grain out before the cows noticed. I did; they normally eat at 4:00 p.m. and are like clockwork showing up in the corral, bellowing for sweet feed. I zipped out to the corral at 3:00 p.m. (an hour early) and threw that sweet feed in the feeders. Then I ran out of the corral before the cows got up there.
Heh heh heh. Oh, they started up when they saw me inside the corral, but I got out first and did a nyeh-nyeh-nyeh at them. THAT was my problem.
I got cocky.
The next morning I glanced out the window and the cows were in the corral at 3:00 p.m., bellowing. Yep, 3:00 p.m. They showed me. I didn’t know. They can tell time.
I had to go INTO the corral while COWS were in there. Man, I hated that. And the
stupid sweet big bull thought he should stick his snout in the bucket while I was carrying it. The others wanted to gather around. IT WAS A NIGHTMARE. Grrr.
This also meant war. The next day I zipped out there at 2:00 p.m. I threw that sweet feed into the feeders and got out stealthily, then shouted “Yee ha, take that, sneaky cows!!” Heh heh heh.
Yep, you got it. The next day they were standing in the corral at 2:00 p.m., and I swear, I SWEAR, they looked smug and sneaky, superior even. Thank goodness Alpha Hubby was home the next day because I’d had it.
My friends want to know what my life is like now? I’m being outsmarted by cattle. Bulls, cows, heifers, calves, steers. Probably even the stupid pigeons if they stuck around long enough to figure out the schedule. Oh and a rabbit. A rabbit who cleans up leftover feed.
And no, my muck boots do not look good with my LBDs. Thank you for asking.