Round 'Em Up

At 7:15 this morning I heard it- the "go-buggy." That's what our neighbor calls his little off-road vehicle. The cows were in motion. He was herding them over from across the road. I can't see the road or the front pasture from the house, but I could hear the commotion.

My husband was at the grocery store at that time. He had run out of his coffee fixins. He returned during the proceedings and offered to help, but was told he wasn't needed. 

Our neighbor was a bit apologetic and very appreciative. He explained that he had headed out to tend the cows while his wife made breakfast. They had agreed to bring them over at about 9 o'clock after their meal. But the cows were so hungry that they came running when they heard him approach, and he didn't have the heart to make them wait, so he went ahead and started the process of moving them, despite the fact that he had to interrupt his wife's cooking in order to recruit her help.  

By 7:45 a calf came streaking past the dining room window as we ate breakfast. It had broken free from the herd as they crossed the road. Our neighbor trailed it with his noisy cart. My husband sighed and headed out to help to round it up. And I thought to myself, "15 minutes. That didn't take long. And there has already been a cow in the back yard."

"I have no desire to raise cattle." my man told me when he came in. "That thing was covered in slobber... Cows are dirty, stinky, and big, even at 2 weeks old."

The poor, frightened calf had wedged himself between the fence and some rose briars in an attempt to hide. When my husband approached, the cow bolted, bucked, tore through the underbrush, and charged the fence, getting its head stuck. It proceeded to ball before extricating itself. Then it took off the way it had come, traversing my back yard yet again. (Breakfast was exciting this morning.) Soon my husband had joined our neighbor in his "go-buggy," and it passed the dining room window again too.

The blueberry pancake mess is cleared up now. The calf has been safely contained and reunited with its mother. And so begins the saga of pasturing the neighbor's livestock.