Cattle Prattle

As I've mentioned in previous posts about the cattle, the cows are picturesque from a distance. They fit in here. When they saunter along the crest of the rise, the sun filtering through the trees and making seas of sunlight on the grasses that they slowly swish through, they are lovely. When their sweet, earthly smell drifts through the window from afar, and the faint lowing lies like a backdrop to my day, I enjoy them. 

the daily late-afternoon nap

When the near-ceaseless crunch of their grass cropping leaves meandering paths through the dew-drenched grass, it seems wholesome and quaint. When driving down our long lane I spy them standing in the pond to their shoulders, they seem silly and sweet. When I notice a cow nuzzling her calf or see the backs of slumbering cattle dotting the field, I smile. When they butt each other, tussle, and jockey- they seem endearingly puerile.

the youngest calf

But when I have a close encounter with the cows, my nose crinkles with distaste. They are muddy. They are bug-ridden and swarmed by flying insects. They lick their nostrils, sling saliva at pesky bugs, tear grasses to toss onto their backs in an attempt to chase the countless creep-crawlies away. They scratch their heads and necks with their hind hooves, in the undignified style of dogs. Their coats are matted, stiff, riddled with burrs and bugs. They drool vast quantities seemingly near-continuously. They drop sloppy, splattering piles of poop that are a breeding ground for thousands of flies, not to mention a stinky eyesore and walking hazard. Such is the life of a beef cow.