My husband had the day off and we walked the kids to the bus stop at the end of our driveway (which is longer than a standard football field, another indication of country living). When we get to the road we were greeted by a young Charolais (a cow – about 1000 pounds).
The bus arrives and goes to swerve around the cow, which scares the poor beast into flight. It runs frantically alongside it, and the kids on the bus go nuts. They are whooping, calling out to the cow, and chanting a direction to the driver to run over the cow. (to clarify – the latter was not my kids yelling).
By the time the bus is out of sight, the cow is even further from home and crying out in confusion. So, what’s a good neighbour to do? Grab a handful of long grass and start calling Bessie. At least that’s what they do in the movies, so that’s what we did.
My dog led the way, and the cow followed. Well, as long as we didn’t look back, the cow followed. The minute we cast a backward glance, she’d stop in her tracks and wait. So we walked her back to the farmer next door – which in the country is more than a fifteen minute walk. It was a writing day, so I was dressed in perfect visiting attire – my fuzzy pajamas –the ones with the giant green frogs. Yes – I write in my PJ’s to get my best work done, it’s a quirky habit that works for me. But I digress.
So the cow gets home safely. The farmer is glad to see us. The cow is glad to see the farmer. My dog gets an extra walk and the kids have a laugh on their way to school. In the end, I have a funny ditty to blog about. An interesting and odd day and it all started with a little side of beef.
The best of days do I guess.