Beulah Petunia came kicking and screaming (well, in her dignified, obstinate cow way) from her old pasture in the meadow bottom to her new digs up by the house yesterday afternoon. She stopped by her old milk stand to say goodbye.
Actually, she thought I was there to milk her, but instead we were leaving. It was all very confusing.
We took her out of the pasture and down the road.
She kept trying to stop and pick daisies. I told her, “Wait till you see the grass in your new field!”
No need to try and control a baby. Baby goes where mama goes.
Then we headed up the driveway.
And Beulah Petunia said, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I told her that I understood. It was gonna be a climb. But she could do it! BP dug her heels in while Morgan shoved on her butt and 52 pulled on the rope attached to her halter.
When I wasn’t taking pictures, I was pulling on her, too. And singing to her.
I’m totally sure it was the singing that finally got her to move.
You know, to get me to shut up.
BP strolling past the garden.
We had to take her through the gates in and out of the goat yard.
BP strolling past Jack, who was a bit distraught over the unexpected COW passage.
BP heading past the chicken house.
BP, home where she belongs.
She was very excited about all the vegetation.
This is where I’ve always wanted my cow to be. This close to the house.
We’ll be like two peas in a pod.
Baby, napping in the tall, tall grass after the long walk up the hill to their new home.
I can PET HER ANYTIME I WANT. She’s just a few steps right outside the door.
And then I milked BP. RIGHT BY THE HOUSE. It was a beautiful thing.