Creepy

Simon, the unlikely, elderly, best hunter on the farm

Fog this morning. Couldn't see more than the vaguest outline of the heifer barn, which is right next to the house. I worry with the crew out on the roads so early; Alan off to milk a lot of cows somewhere else and Liz on the way here to milk ours.

Last night bringing the cows in by moonlight was an interesting experience. It is lovely out there in the moonglow. Even the mud turns all silver and shines. However, dear little Rosie, the milking shorthorn heifer, has turned into a lunatic, who charges anyone she sees.

Oddly her roan and white coloring blends in with the darkness much better than the stark black and white of the Holsteins so watching for her is problematic.

You kind of have to rely on the sound of hurried hoof steps in the mud to tell you when this juggernaut of naughty (and dangerous) bovine is coming at you.

However, in the dark the sounds of the cows walking echo off the horse trailer and the corn crib and the heifer barn. Sloppy, soupy, mud-song-surround sound.

I was kind of nervous about it when I got left behind, being fence while waiting for the last few cows. Everyone else went in to let cows in.

Then the last few cows surprised me as I was shutting the big gates...old lady with a broken foot, deep, sticky mud, big, heavy red gate that has to be dragged...I wasn't moving very fast.

From right behind me I heard a soft moo. Oops, the cows weren't all down yet. (Even with a good flashlight it is really hard to see them). There was Mandy...and the two Jersey heifers...and Rosie.

Who took one look at me and ran like heck...to get away from me.

Hmmmm......