Fred went off Saturday morning to buy a heifer. Our tentative start into the cattle business (if you don't count Rocky, the trouble making steer). He was gone maybe an hour and a half when I got a phone call.
"Listen...I bought some cows."
Some cows?
"I looked at that little heifer, and I thought the price was a little steep. So I looked at some other young cows, and for a few hundred dollars more a head, I bought four of them. They're all bred, so we'll have our calves. They're loading them now, so we'll be there in a couple of hours."
I tried to forget about the fact that a couple hundred dollar investment had now turned into a couple thousand, and the fact that I knew very little about cows. I decided to find a happy place about it, though, and I was ready to receive them with open arms when they finally got there.
When the trailer pulled up to the gate, I brushed past Fred without so much as a how-do-you-do and made a beeline for it, climbed up on the side and smiled at the four sets of large, lashy eyes staring back at me.
"Hey there. "I said softly, and reached in to pat the nose of the one nearest to me.
That sweet, simple greeting sent them into a frenzy to end all frenzies. There was a great deal of kicking and mooing and rocking of that trailer, and my heart sank. I had lost my happy place. They unloaded without so much as a hiccup and proceeded to find the farthest most point in the south pasture from Fred and me as they could get and stayed there for a full forty-eight hours, looking like they had just been delivered into hell. I got offended. It was a nice pasture with lots of grass, and fresh water, and if it wasn't good enough for them, well then, too bad. Fred must have picked up my dour mood.
"It'll be all right." He kept reassuring me.
We kept them penned up in the small south pasture Saturday night, and Sunday, and then turned them out into the back twenty yesterday afternoon. They took off like their tails were on fire, headed for the woods, the shade, and knee- deep green grass. All except the bald-face, who has yet to do anything impulsively.
She's about half wild, and it doesn't take much to spook her. She was the last one off the trailer, the last one to sample the feed, the last to find the fresh cold water we put out for them. She trotted around the south pasture for a full ten minutes after the others took off, bawling. There was a few tense moments where we were sure she was going to jump the fence, but she finally found the gate and out she went.
At feeding time Monday evening, Fred stubbornly kept banging on a feed bucket.
"C'mon cows! Come on up cows!"
"You're wasting your time." I said. "We'll be lucky if we ever see them again."
"Nah." He said. "They'll come." Thump, thump, thump... "Come cows!"
Sure of myself, I turned my back and went back to my watering, shaking my head, feeling a little sorry for him. A few minutes later, he said...
"Hey...look here."
I turned around to see, of all things, the bald-face coming up through the grove like a black ghost. Right behind her was the one that looks like reddish-brown velvet, and the other two, right on their heels. While I marveled at the fact that the skittish one had been the one to lead the others home, I tried to ignore the look of smug satisfaction plastered across Fred's face, and just delighted in the fact that our cows were minding us. I think I found my happy place again. For the moment.
Funny how banging on that old feed bucket will just bring 'em running, even the stubborn, cranky ones. Once they get used to the new place, your personality will rub off on them. [img]/forums/images/icons/wink.gif[/img] They'll be amusing you and enjoying your company before you know it.
Good luck with the cows. [img]/forums/images/icons/smile.gif[/img]
Thanks Larry! Here we are five days later and the cows are waiting for us at feed time. Letting us walk cautiously among them. Major improvment. I think you may be right.
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