When I went over to take care of BP last night (by myself), she had company. And not the special kind. (Haven’t seen the bull with her since that one day.)
I have to admit that I’m afraid of large animals. Of any kind. Any animal that is way bigger than me. I get along with large animals I know, like BP and Glory Bee, but not other large animals. Strangers.
And here the paddock was teeming with Big Cows That I Don’t Know.
Especially this scary Halloween-face one.
How will I get to BP? What will I do? Where will I go? WAIL. (!)
There were all kinds of bunches of them!
Or, you know, at least six!
They all looked different. Like a cow freak show!
And most of ’em had horns! But they were all girls. So I said, Suzanne, you’ve got to run ’em out of there.
So I climbed in there and said, “Git,” real nice-like.
Then I started clapping my hands and screaming and they ran outta there!
And boy did I feel like a farmer.
Except for the screaming part.
And then I found BP.
I got her in the paddock and shut the gate so nobody could get at her food. And when I let her back out of the paddock, I could only hope the other girls weren’t mean to her for being “the special girl” with “the special food” who thinks she’s a princess or something.
We’re bringing her home this weekend!