Wednesday, August 25, 2010

It's moo-thirty you know where your cows are?

I mean...2:30 a.m.
The husband's cel phone rang this morning at 2:30, it was Antonio the night milker - there was a cow having a calf and he needed hubby to come over and "pull a calf"...guess you could call him the mid-wife for cows.
Hubby heads out to the other farm, I snuggle in hoping to go back to sleep. I start to drift off...
I hear a moo, the moo is coming from the wrong direction. After living here for thirty years a girl gets to know which direction a moo should come from, if it's a stress-moo, a horny-moo, a get the picture. This was a stress-moo...and it was coming from the northwest - moos here should come from the south.
That's it, if a moo is coming from the wrong direction this could spell serious trouble.
I got out of bed, went to the upstairs window to listen, "moooo, moooooo".
Downstairs I go, my jammies and sandals. Walked into the backyard and out to the veggie garden, no moo. Walked back to the house to get a flashlight, moo, dang it...moo bouncing off buildings. Walked out to the silage bunker, hear stress moo. Brain wakes up a little more, perhaps it would be"hoove" (pun intended) me to get my car so I can drive behind the barn and use my headlights to scan the field...grab the cel phone and dog too! Drive out...and there she is - what the cow-crap??? She's brown - at least I think it's a she...the bovine is in the field and with the lousy light and long grass I can't see so good and I for sure can't see her "privates"! I know I can't chase her alone, in the dark, with a bad ankle to boot. If I did chase her...where would I chase her to? I don't know anybody in the neighborhood who has reddish brown cows - where on earth did this beast come from.
Think to call hubby, who I think is still at the other farm, get hubbys voice mail - I'm thinking he's busy with maternity duty and can't answer. Sooo...I go back to the house, thinking I'll wait for hubby to come back...then I hear the beep - his cel phone voice mail alert...he doesn't even have the stinking phone with him.
What's a girl to do?
Go back to bed, not my cow, can't chase it alone, where would I chase it to?
It's stinking dark, my ankle hurts, I walk verrry carefully - I dO NOt RUn!
Go back to bed is the only clear answer, I wouldn't even know who to call because I don't know anyone who has cows that look like the dark I was guessing she was a beef cow. She's in the field, there's lots of grass...settle down missy and we'll deal with you in the morning and don't you daaaare get lost in the corn field...cuz we'll neverrr find you in there.
Hubby comes home an hour later...he had been home earlier but when he didn't see my vehicle he went down the road where he saw a lot of other trucks. When he was at the other farm there were two cows on the road, he also had no idea where they came he locked them up and came home, he figured when he didn't see my rig I went to help with the rodeo-round-up...little did he know I was in my rig behind our own barns scanning the field for strange bovines.
We jumped in his truck, ( I changed from jammies to jeans fyi ), there were more cows, more guys in trucks, and some ATV's...while we were telling them about the beast at our place two more moosies came running out from some body's back yard. They were WiLD! CRaZy! BEaStS! The other farmers told us where the strays came from, and it was wayyy up the road, and they were scattered over a couple of miles - these gals crossed busy roads and nobody got hurt...a-freaking-mazing.
When we got home we checked the pool for cows, just in case - cuz it's happened before. No cows taking a midnight dip...whewww.
This morning when the sun came up there were three brownish/red cows hanging over the fence trying to make friends with our black and white girls.
Somebody came while we weren't home and loaded them up in a cattle trailer and took them back to wherever it is they belong, I hope they ship them someplace far away, becaue these girls obviously have a serious case of wanderlust.
Somebody owes me somethin', I hear the cattle hauler that was housing them at his place was out fishing or crabbing or something ....I think that a nice fish or a dungeness crab or two would be a lovely trade for a lost night of sleep.
Doncha think?
Just sayin'


Margaret Roach said...

Thanks for a smile (and the nice mention in your blogroll). Happy to "meet" you!

Margaret at A Way to Garden

Jerrie said...

Oh my goodness - the life of a farmer. I have visions of cows wandering down Bender to my house...haha! no.

Hope your ankle feels better soon!

quilly said...

Since this month has no "r" in it, DO NOT accept payment in crab unless you want to add more insult to your injuries.

I applaud you for getting out of bed and limping out to see what was up. I have chased enough cows (in daylight, properly dressed and wearing boots) to know that getting out of bed in the dark and going cow chasing while wearing jammies and sandals and limping is a heroic feat.

Les Hon said...

Remembering the days when unusual night-time animal noises resulted in an adrenaline surge...

Maybe I don't miss cows quite as much as I thought I did...

Sharon said...

Peter had a similar experience at his house the other night! I thought he drank too much blueberry wine.. glad to know it was real.

Anonymous said...

Hi! I'm the uncommon-tater. I was awakened at 1:30 by the sounds of what I thought was a cow calving and being attacked by coyotes, for I also heard them howling away. I lay abed awhile and the sounds were very distressed. I thought perhaps the neighbors had a cow birthing and the coyotes were out for a "hot" late night snack. I decided I better do something, somehow can't keep my nose out of predicaments.
I arose and went outside clad in my night boxers, (the weather has been warm here of late). It was a beautiful, full-moon illuminated night. And, yes there was cow mooing going on. Lots of it, but not from the neighbors across the street. Silence held sway over there; blissful, sleep encouraging silence. The bellows came from the south east, "Oh, their cows are upset, and that's over where I think the coyote pack lives; that's not good". "What shall I do?"
But then my reverie is broken by bellowing from the northeast, "Their cows too?" "This is strange!" And then in unison northeast and southeast voices called loudly, parroted by cows to the west! "This is really weird! I've never heard anything like this before."
I stood outside for five more minutes. The calling went on unabated.I considered options, the generalized pandemonium convinced me it wasn't a coyote attack. A return to bed seemed most appropriate. I went back in thinking, "What if the cows know we're in for a big earthquake or some other disaster? (I've heard animals are more sensitive than we). So off with the light and back to sleep hoping to escape whatever was coming.
In the morning I spotted a pair of cloven hoof manure 'divots' on the concrete slab. I thought "Did the neighbors come over after one of their cows?" But that couldn't be, their cows don't even poop.
And then today, two days later I spy manure on the lawn. I tell my mom who says, "That can't be!" until confronted with my evidence. And then she says, "It must be sick." I assured her it was just regular healthy-cow poop.
I trot over to the neighbors and their mother says to me, "Oh, you didn't hear about the other night?.........
47 cows had been on the loose! And I missed all the fun!

Lori said...

Jeesh! What a night. You have funny adventures girl. I do think they owe you something. Maybe even a spa treatment.