Armed with an empty feed sack and a set of pruners (closely resembling piranha jaws) I despatched myself off down Cow Lane. My mission was to capture and destroy without mercy the thistle that had managed to evade an earlier thistle patrol and had taunted me each time I led “Lady lump” the big Shire mare out to her pasture. Meandering down the lane, happily absorbing an overdose of vitamin D, dragging my sack and closing in on my intended prickly victims, I was met by a clearly uncertain and disoriented Lady. “Hi Lady” as I passed, preoccupied… then stopped dead. Lady…Cow Lane….something’s not quite as it should be. Good job the no blame policy hasn’t expired, Zinny the little chestnut pony mare had gone out to play this morning and someone ( this time happily not me) had neglected to ensure the gate was safely fastened. Lady had clearly decided that the grass on the other side was more delectable and sensing the opportunity for adventure ( and /or fresh grass) had accepted the oversight as an invitation to pasture unknown. Poor Lady,it wasn’t long once her misdemeanour had been discovered before she was safely back behind a firmly locked gate and after a stern reprimand for our big girl, the renegade thistles were bagged, I had an overdose of said vitamin D, failed the “poke test” and was subsequently designated an “inside project”. ( Note for next sunny day..Greg failed his own poke test and something tells me we are going to have a man sized sun burn problem !!)
The barn swallow chicks are clearly overgrowing their mud daub nests, corpulent bodies overspill the open top cup and gaping beaks await over attentive parents. Junior Barn Swallow is apparently instructed at an early age to poop over the edge….sadly, over the edge is right over me busily and distractedly grooming an overheated Lady…. and junior scored a direct hit. DOH, I washed my hair this morning !!
Oh…just a little to the left…higher….oh, scratch a little to the right…under my chin..mmmm, so good !!! The day is drawing to a steamy close and at the end of a long hot day who doesn’t want a massage and a back scratch. Our bovine friends never decline an offer and a quick trip to collect empty feed buckets turned the cow barn into a virtual massage parlour. The cattle, taking advantage of the cool breeze wafting through the barn were relaxing as only cows can and a quick butt scratch in passing evolved into a full on therapy session. Young Hol-ley the polled Dexter with horns like a little devil took full advantage of our visit and from head to tail her body shuddered as Carla raked her back, her tail stiffened and extended into the air, her chin raised, her eyes rolled and wobbly legs rocked. Young Goliath, the beef cow who wants to be someone’s cuddly toy raised his grass sleepy body and joined the session. Delilah our rescue Holstein heifer wasn’t going to be excluded and Daisy May, heavily pregnant hot and moody asserted seniority and barrelled her big black body into the scratch zone. I guess it’s not just Greg who melts at the prospect of a scratch.
We are back to a full house, Quatra is back from the city, Carla returned from her day of recuperation and Mom Sikora still reigns supreme in the ranch kitchen…and down at the barn. The sun is shining …and life is good.
Take care, keep safe, M