Moo-dini
One thing I’ve learned since moving out to the country is that if you want to make your little farming operation look legit, you need some livestock. Everyone around here has some kind of large beast roaming in their fields, be it sheep, horses, llamas, or cows. At first, I thought my large family’s “Little House on the Prairie” vibe would be enough to carry us, but we quickly realized that we needed something more to validate our existence out here. And so we got some cows.
Right off the bat, we wanted our kids to understand that these cows weren’t just giant, mangy pets that we were keeping in the back pasture for fun; they were destined for a higher calling. We named them “Pot Roast” and “Barbecue,” in case you’re wondering what that higher calling was.
Cow ownership also served the purpose of giving our kids something hard to do. All winter long, our three older kids took turns going out before school and in the evening to put out hay and feed for the cows. This is a job that would have reduced me to whiny tears when I was their age, but even in the driving snow, freezing cold, and usually pitch dark, my kids faithfully tended to this chore—sometimes miraculously without complaint.
Although my kids were rock stars when it came to keeping the cows fed, we were shockingly bad at other key aspects of livestock maintenance, namely keeping track of where they were. One day in early summer, I happened to glance out into the field from our kitchen window, and noticed one cow on the other side of the fence.
“How in the world did it get over there?” I wondered as I called for a couple of my kids to go down and herd the cow back into the pasture. Later that day, I naively wandered the fence line, tightening low-hanging barbed wire here and pushing against metal fence posts there, certain that I had solved the problem. Little did I know that this was to be the beginning of the Summer of Escaped Cows.
Only a few weeks later, I woke up to discover seventeen cows in our pasture; we only owned five. Another morning, I was jolted awake by a moo-ing sound, much louder than it should have been. I glanced out my bedroom window and saw a cow lazily wandering around in the gravel driveway behind our house, well out of its pasture. My husband was gone and my kids were asleep, so I was left alone to race down the driveway and somehow drive the cow back over the fence.
If you’ve never dealt with a cow up close and personal, there are a couple things you need to keep in mind: 1) Don’t get frustrated because they seem a little dumb and aren’t following your clearly stated orders. They’re the ones who managed to escape, after all, and you’re the one standing in your pajamas in the driveway moo-ing at the top of your lungs, so…who’s the real idiot? 2) They’re not deliberately being obstinate; they’re just trying to find good food. Although, if you are trying to herd them towards the butcher truck that is parked in your pasture, yes, they may be deliberately being obstinate.
The little moo-ing and shoo-ing that I had to do is nothing compared to my friend Kyndra’s experience last month when she and her family got two cows for the first time. As soon as the cows were let out of the trailer and into the pasture, one of them jumped the fence and took off on a jogging tour of the neighborhood. Kyndra ran after it, chasing the cow as it trotted down the street, over hill and dell and through neighboring fields. For seven grueling hours she and her family chased that cow; by the end of the day, her fitness tracker logged 14 miles of running.
In case you’re wondering, that cow is now safely back in her (heavily fortified) pasture and recently gave birth to an adorable little calf. Against all odds, that calf has also since escaped. Kyndra is considering giving it a new name: Moo-dini.