Who Let The Cows Out - Moo, Moo, Moo, Moo-Moo?

Just kidding - I'm pretty sure they are supposed to be there. I don't really have much interaction with the Bovine Brethren but from what I have been able to glean, they really aren't given to "wilding". In fact, I have become so accustomed to being the only house up on a hill that if I happen to see shadows moving, I wonder just what the hell is going on? It's always cows - who are rather more ninja-like than one might imagine.


The cows are moved around the farm from field to field (and they are scattered all about as it is - I don't know how they keep track) because...well, I'm sure there is a good reason - the grass is always greener in the other pasture? One can never really take the New York out of the New Yorker.


Generally cows only moo-ve into my perview when we are exercising the hounds. The hounds are just curious and want to sniff around and say "hi" and the cows, for the most part, would prefer that they not do that. One time, about 8 or so cows came running down to one of the gates we were about to open and cross as if to say "Yeah, no - we don't want to share any of this field today". When it became apparent to the cows that the hounds, horses and people were indeed going to be coming into their pasture - they literally looked at each other and in their very best Monty Python re-enactment, did the "Run Away! Run Away!" battle scene from Holy Grail.


Recently, Dee had to travel on business and so I was to lead the next three walkouts. I am getting a bit more confident and am often now able to make a sound come out of the horn that doesn't sound like a desperate cry for help from a living thing.


The first walkout, I had forgotten to ask where the horn was and couldn't find it in any of the usual places (it was, in fact, hung where it should be, I had just never noticed it there before) and had also forgotten to ask about "treats" so this session was done hornless & treatless (Dee doesn't always give them treats while we're out - but I figured since I was the substitute teacher that some canine graft & corruption in the form of small bone-shaped biscuits would've been helpful). 

We came to the last field and pond and since there were quite a few cows already at the pond, decided it might be best to just lead the hounds away from that pond. I then looked down the hill to see an ass-load (agricultural unit of measurement) of cows being led into the field. Jesus tap-dancing Christ! A quick consult with the riders and we decided that I would call the hounds behind me but rather than give the command to "go", I would just move slowly down the hill diagonally away from the incoming crowd with most of the riders keeping between the cows and hounds. It worked! The hounds followed my cart and moving as a unit everyone got to the bottom of the hill without any confusion or tears. 

I was well pleased with that maneuver (probably not as impressive to the veterans but I enjoyed it).


The second walkout was pretty stress free (but crazy hot) until the end. We got all of the hounds into the trailer to take them back up to the kennel except for Ice-T (I am not changing any of the animals' names until or unless I am advised they have lawyers on retainer). Normally behaved like a gentleman, Ice-T decided to channel his inner rapper and run back into the field. Dee truly loves every one of her creatures, great & small, from the horses down to the bees so I had NO intention of telling her we had lost one of her hounds, I yelled to the poor, exhausted, blazing hot riders "No one leaves until we get T back here!"

Oh dear, it's just occurred to me that technically I may have been holding a half dozen or so people hostage at that point. 

Well, what does one do when faced with a short, round woman of a certain age who is brandishing a whip and is covered in sweat, dust and pond scum, and currently has Bette Davis eyes - and not the good kind of which Kim Carnes sang either. I'm thinking more "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" eyes or "Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte" peepers. Well, we finally got T back but by that point we could only get him into the cab of the truck. Have you ever tried to drive a truck with a trailer full of hounds behind you and a foxhound sitting on your lap?  Well, I have.


By the third walkout, the temperature had been steadily climbing every day and that alone could've caused the spontaneous combustion of any living thing but just as I pulled on the front door, not only was I hit by the heat but also by a smell that I could only think was one large dead thing (something in the Woolly Mammoth size range) OR a large amount of smaller dead things. Turns out it's fertilizer time. New York, in the height of summer, with the sanitation people on strike, isn't even in the same class of stink. 

Fortunately, with the exception of a continual wish for a gas mask, that walkout went well. Dee was returning that afternoon leaving me no time in which to find alternate living arrangements had it not.

Tomorrow we ride (I cart) at dawn (well, not dawn so much as 90 minutes earlier than usual) 'cause that heat isn't going anywhere anytime soon.  

Onward & sideways!