I have my own secret weapon. When things get rough, when things become a little too close, when it all pushes in, I feel confident knowing I have a secret weapon. An upper hand. A confidence booster. An instant get away with instant, honest perspective. Cows, baby! Cows. I head out to the pasture for a calming tete a tete. The quiet, the slyly hilarious, the mundane routine of an animal just eating and eating, then lying down, the chewing and chewing. The constant, and I mean, constant, burping! They appeal to the five year old still raging about in me. I can't help but giggle. The scratches for pets. Watching the politics at the waterer and being reassured that nothing is too different there than any arena of human life. Someone always wants to be first, others think that's not such a great idea and do their best to stop it with various ranges of posturing.
At the end, I come back home and feel calmer, grounded, and happy. It's my yoga (and I don't look nearly as ridiculous doing it as I do when I attempt real yoga).
This is Dixie. She's old. Really old. She's also a pig. We've had people pull into the yard, come to the house and say, "I think you've got a cow bloating back there." We go out to check, just in case, but yep, it's just Dixie. She's fat. She's a pig. Any kind of bucket and she comes running. She usually poses with her mouth open, chewing. We love her.
A brief interlude for bovine gymnastics. The licking of the back. Cows are agile creatures. Don't let anyone fool you into telling you otherwise.
This is Rose. She likes her backend scratched. She'll stop mid-stride if you reach over and scratch her. She's almost broken my foot (bit of a story there). I quite like her.
This is Sweetpea. She's a goofball and has a huge heart. Sweet and calm and obviously has no dignity if she's posing that way.
And this is May. She drives us nuts. She's a good momma. And she's likely a good momma because she's as wily as a fox checking out the coop with the hound dog lying right out front. Her daughter, Sparkle, is just like her. May has taught us patience.
And there you have it, a few of the girls from our herd. I did miss dear old Agnes, who isn't actually old, quite young actually, but is right up there in the top ten bovines. I didn't want to bore you too much with my little ode. They make me smile but like kids, if they aren't yours, a little exposure is more. And done, the PipCreek salute to our bovines!