I’ve never liked Mayfield’s Brown Cows very much. The chocolate coating cracks in all the wrong places, and then the ice cream melts too fast. But I’m re-thinking Brown Cows after our most recent Wyoming experience.
I happened to notice a cow in our neighbor’s pasture, forlornly mooing, and dragging what seemed to be a bucket behind her. I told Andy, and he and Ella trekked out to figure out what was going on. Cullen followed, a bit later.
I watched, while they walked and walked, then I pulled out the binoculars, to follow the situation more closely. The bucket was successfully disengaged, and then they disappeared behind a hill.
Cullen eventually came home, reporting he had been told to go to our other neighbor’s house (a mile away, driving), to see if they were missing a cow. In the meantime, Andy and Ella started walking, probably half a mile toward that house. The walk is over hills, dodging rabbit holes, and the cow was not always cooperative.
We headed over in the Jeep. We met the whole family for the first time, because they just moved in a couple months ago. They were very nice people, but alas, they were not missing a cow.
By this time, Andy and Ella had walked toward us, with the cow in tow. The only thing to do at that point was to take her back to our house.
While they figured out how to get her out of the pasture (with no gates), we ran back home to get our truck, and Cullen hopped on the four-wheeler. After breaking through the fence, then repairing it again, Andy tied the sweet cow to the bumper of the truck with a steel cable she had been dragging, and walked with her the whole mile home, holding her halter, calming her when she got a little jittery, and coaxing her when she just stopped walking. Meanwhile, I drove very slowly. Let me just say, it’s very hard to keep a F150 at 2-3 mph. I heard, "slow down" and "speed up" more times than I can recall. The twins followed on the four-wheeler, to provide light.
We pulled into our upper pasture around 10 p.m., and filled a watering tub. But then the question was how we were going to keep her contained, because it was obvious she would easily get through our fences, which are only designed for horse containment.
The solution was to get our old truck, and tether her to the rear bumper.
She’s got plenty of water and grass, until the sheriff’s office comes out to figure out who she belongs to. She doesn’t have a brand or ear tag, and she has a halter, which makes us think she’s someone’s 4H or FFA project.
Meanwhile, in a phone call with the Branding Inspector’s office, I was told that the officer would be here soon, but that he was currently experiencing cell phone difficulties, partially because he was on horseback, on another case.
I thought of Mayfield way too much, through the whole process. As I was driving so slowly, all I could think about was some cottage cheese, ice cream sandwiches, and just regular ice cream. And maybe even a Brown Cow.
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