A Story of Tuesday

I tell you... there comes a point where it's difficult to admire the intelligence of a cow after about the fifteenth time she escapes into your yard.

The rancher who owns Dirty Red came Sunday to fix the gate.
Dirty Red had busted it Friday night just before the goddamn snow came, allowing herself and another, more pleasant, cow briefly loose. I didn't begrudge Red at the time for forcing me to rig a temporary bandage to stem the potential flow of cows - even through a nasty wind that left my hands numb with the vicious chill it carried.
But no more...

She got out twice today. The last time, I shared with her some genuinely hostile feelings enunciated with a few pistol shots into the air. Afterwards, I found weak spots in the fence and worked on repairing them with bailing wire and fortifying the outside with snags of brush that I hope repell or at least discourage her.

We spent a considerable amount of time and energy the weekend before last tilling up a patch of land for a dream garden we have yet to plant & the prospect of a red cow simultaneously chewing it up and shitting in it has started to get irritating.

After piling together a jagged heap to act as wooden antlers, my woman and I climbed on the hay bails with our little boy and our cats to enjoy the evening.
We had beers and talked as the sun transitioned from blinding to setting & that's when we saw the fire running out of control in the field across from us about a half a mile away. The fire trucks came with their sirens and volunteer firemen following with their hazard lights on & within about twenty minutes, we could no longer see any of the flames whipping around.

Nice job guys. Thanks.