Flower Drum Cows

The cows went out to pasture yesterday for the first time this year. When the old ones like Star, who at eleven is second oldest, Butternut, another senior citizen, and all the other veterans of many years at grass saw that the lower gate was open, they headed for the hills.

Literally.

It was not quite the same story with the two, three and a few of the four-year-old cows. They were much more intrigued by the fact that they could run for about a half a mile at a rip than by the new food source.

So run they did.

All day.

They ran up the hill. I looked out the window, not a black and white body to be seen. Five minutes later, with a thunder of hooves on packed earth, they were back, mooing at me, and staring as if asking what they were supposed to be doing.

Then they were gone again.

It was a noisy, busy day. Of course there was a bunch in the barnyard when the corn truck came so I had to hold gates with a big stick, since they thought all open gates were there for their entertainment.

An of course, when it came time to bring them in the barn for milking there was a conspicuous dearth of bovinity anywhere to be found.

The young ones were evidently still on the prowl though. As soon as they heard the grain auger they showed up at the door, wide-eyed and blowing.

However, the old ladies had to be escorted all the way down from the farthest hills. They knew a good thing when they tasted it. After a long day of vigorous grazing their backs were dotted with spent flowers from the box elders, wild plums and maples that are in bloom. They were quite contented and full of milk. I hope things are a little more peaceful today though.