Year of the Cow

I can’t believe how much blog space I’ve devoted recently to cows.

Neighborhood cows. Hostile cows. Beloved-by-Brynn cows.

We spy cattle daily when we drive the kids to school. I smell them when I walk the dog at night. You can’t miss them.

Beef prices are on the rise and maybe that’s why we’re seeing more barbed wire and black angus.

And just the other day, when we fired up Chitty for a jaunt up the driveway, we actually ventured out to seek a cow.

Not the future hamburger herd that grazes next door but a pair of cool cows that reside two properties away. I spotted them last week while riding Chance. Well, Chance spotted them first. And nearly had a heart attack.

They look a bit like wookiees from Star Wars. Or Cayden calls them the “yak cows.” Whatever the nickname, they were worth the excursion.

Technically they’re called highland cattle — a hardy Scottish breed fitted with long horns and a wavy haircoat complete with unkempt, shaggy bangs. These particular ones were not especially interested in our crew so we admired them from a distance. Brynn attempted a closer look; undeterred by the high tensile wire, she tried to crawl between the strands. Thankfully the fence was not of the electric persuasion.

We haven’t met these neighbors but on the way home, we teetered along their property line, admiring their menagerie of brightly-plumed turkeys, cackling chickens and ducks and a few goats.

A veritable petty zoo that made our sheep and horses look downright pedestrian…and led me to imagine expanding our flock–

–of animals.

Not kids.