Country Living Series

Saturday, June 13, 2020

At least it wasn't us

The other morning a sound woke me up very very early. It's something I'm conditioned to hear and worry about, even though (at least for now) it's no longer necessary, kinda like how I still snap to attention when a kid yells "Mom!"

I refer to a "moo."

You see, whenever I hear a cow "moo" -- especially around dawn -- I snap awake and wonder what's wrong. What cows got out, and how?

Sure enough, my instincts were correct. Behold, a cow where she shouldn't be.


Actually, behold many cows (and calves) where they shouldn't be.


These cows belong to one neighbor, and they escaped to graze on another neighbor's property.


I called the first neighbor, just in case he wasn't aware, but he knew about it and was getting ready to repair to breached fence.

Which, sure enough, he did.


At least this time, it wasn't our cows who escaped (since we currently don't have any).

But that instinct. It just doesn't go away. "Moo!"

2 comments:

  1. You are blessed to have a protective instinct. Whether it is Mom or moo, you're there to help. Love this about you.

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  2. It's been 50 years since I left the farm on which I was raised, but "moo" still does it to me. To this day I cannot stand to wear slippers or just socks in the house - it's got to be shoes, so I can run out and head off the cows or horses before they reach the end of the driveway and get on the road. (By the way, my cat's "meow" will wake me out of a sound sleep, also.)

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