I wrote before of cows getting loose, run ins with law enforcement, corralling them, cajoling them and getting them back to where they belonged. The emphasis was irritation, interruption, and the frustrating need for better fencing.
Better fencing has happened. In one of the scenarios above we met a neighbour who helped us. My husband remarked on the man’s friendly three legged dog. They talked cows and the farmer mentioned he had a bull coming shortly to stay for a spell. We said thank you and gave him some eggs and a chicken.
Last week it came to our attention that Anabelle is again in heat, despite having magic potion delivered by the nice man in the white truck on three different occasions.
What would you do if you were us and the potion fails this time? I asked.
Get a bull, he said.
We’re not set up for housing a bull, but Anabelle’s condition jiggled up the memory of the nice new neighbour. My husband called and the bull was still there. Transport and accommodations were arranged. We did our best to communicate to Anabelle our approval of this new young man and our extreme best wishes that she find him an acceptable sire for next year’s calf.
Hopefully she’ll be home soon. The fields don’t seem quite right without her. Buster’s been wandering the pastures mooing soulfully. On and on and on.
Who knows if this time will be the ticket or not, but the irony makes me laugh. We only met the farmer who’s helping us because Buster got a taste for a good wander and convinced his mother to join him. If broken fences and crazy cows equal a nice little Hereford/Charolais calf next summer, I’ll have to reassess more illogical reasons for hope and gratitude.