These lovely ladies are my closest neighbors. You know you live a little too close to cows when your children make fun of how other kids make the sound cows make. I remember a few years ago being with family and someone was playing with one of the small babies and asking them to make different animal sounds. "What does a horsey say? What does a sheep say? What does a cow say?" The child was so cute and made the cutest little sounds, but when we got into the car my oldest said, "That is not what a cow says!" and then he proceeded to imitate a cow bellowing for her babies. If you've heard it you know it nowhere near a nice little moo. It is loud and repeated over and over and is echoed off our hills for everyone to hear. Fog horn is a more reasonable imitation of these lovely ladies. Nothing lovely and "Old McDonal-ish". I prefer cows bellowing any day over sirens, and cars though. It's a good trade off. Usually I love my neighbors.
The neighbors are usually very polite and keep to themselves. Actually they spend their summers up the canyon enjoying some very fine grass I'm sure. Perfect neighbors I think. There is only one problem. Every once in awhile an unruly teenager and his friends decide the grass is greener on my side of the fence. If they start feeling this urge I've noticed no fence can keep them out. They walk right through and onto my daffodils. Just the other day as I was walking out to the barn at 4:52am to go running, I noticed in the nick of time, one of these lovely ladies had left me a deposit right outside the barn door. I like the deposits that come in Razzle Berry Pie Shape, not Cow Pie shape.
One spring I remember laying in bed with my windows wide open listening to the frogs out in the fields as I slumbered. All of a sudden in my subconscious I could hear, big animal walking through tall grass sounds that seems to be getting closer. "James! My tomatoes!" is all I could say. My man knew what needed to be done before the lovely bovines destroyed my freshly planted and manicured veggie garden. Oh I wish it would have been daylight just so I could have had a picture, but maybe this mental picture will do just as well.
James was suddenly running through the yard in his whitey tighties and milking boots carrying a menacing looking BB gun and yelling at rouge cows. He saved my tomatoes. Those cows went running scared. If it wasn't true love by that point in my marriage, it certainly was now. I knew he was definitely a keeper. You know Dr. Laura always asks, "Would your man swim through shark infested waters to bring you a lemonade?" That's how you know if he's a keeper she says. Well my man tops that. He runs through the yard in the middle of the night in his undies, wearing milking boots to save my tomatoes. True love don't you think. I love his guts! I'll keep him. I'll keep the neighbors too..........most of the time:)