Fun on the Faem

Sunday morning shenanigans. A neighbor let us know that three calves were headed down the road.

By the time we got down there, Justin and Claui and crew had turned them back. Now to get them into their pasture. 

In the distance, the mamas were bawling and the calfies scooted back to where they belonged.

The crew: a mama and daughter who spent the night after the party were treated to a mini-roundup. 

The whole episode reminded us of far too many Sunday mornings when our beloved late neighbor Mearl would call. "Git ye out of the bed?" she'd cackle. "Cows is out and going down the road."

We used to tell ourselves that she was letting them out, just for the fun of it. And the same thought passed through my mind today.

Was that a ghostly cackle in the wind?

 

An Outage of Cows

Louise and I were going to spend a pleasant day with watercolors so I went down to the lower place to pick her up, only to be confronted with cows where they didn't belong.

Alas, my little cow-herding buddy was in school, and John was elsewhere. I'm no Border Collie and I move quite slowly but fortunately, the cows know where they belong and trundle back to the gate with me hirpling along behind. (I only recently discovered the word hirpling, a Scots term for hobbling and I  am making it my own.)

Easily done. But it reminded me of a time forty some years ago when I had Justin in a carrier on my back and I chased after our wandering milk cow across the hard road and around the mountain. I got her turned around eventually and back to the barn, but, lordy! I couldn't do that now. 

Old times they are not forgotten.

 

An Outage of Cows

Cows will go wandering. A neighbor alerted us that they had come visiting. 

John went after them but instead of going down the road, as he wanted them to, they turned up the road to our place. He left them peacefully grazing and came and got me so I (and the truck) could block a crucial turning as he herded them down to the lower place.

It went well. With John behind them, they trooped down the road like good cows (and one donkey.)

I followed in the truck. . .

pausing to admire the yellow trilliums on the roadside.

Once the cows (and donkey) were where they belonged, I had a look at Dave and the Bobbettes in the little red chicken house where John put them for their own safety.

They aren't used to company. I'll try to take Josie down tomorrow, if the weather cooperates.

Spring green. Who can blame the cows for going exploring?

When Cows Go Bad . . .

There's still grass in the pastures. But the front yard was more inviting and some of the girls made an escape. Can you tell that the one on the left knows she's doing wrong?

They munch as fast as they can while we slip around -- one of us goes to open a gate, the others prepare to urge the girls toward it. The dogs, and occasionally the cats, all come to watch the fun. Though only the tail end of William made it into the last picture, Molly, William, and Hutchins were definitely a part of this scene, barking or stalking, according to their natures.

The girls made a quick pass through what was left of the garden before trundling on down the hill and back through the open gate.
All too soon they'll be confined to the lower pasture and munching up that expensive hay. So we'll put up with this bad bovine behavior, happy if they can get a few free mouthfuls here and there.