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Bulls on a Tuesday morning

two water buffalos

Remy is our cow herder. Juno has the good sense not to get involved. Remy’s quite efficient considering he has zero training in this field (possibly zero training in general) and he’s afraid of everything. He has a big, deep bark that is rather alarming. However, he’s afraid of chairs, stuffed animals, out of place towels, and his own leash. I may have dropped the ball there.

For whatever reason, he’s not afraid of cows and he’s excellent at chasing them back through the fence. Cows don’t get into our yard too frequently, most often in the spring when there’s new babies that can easily slip through. So, Remy vs a 250 lb baby cow is somewhat reasonable. Know what’s not reasonable? Remy vs an 1,800 lb bull. It would turn out Hubs and I differ on this topic.

One early morning there were cows in the front yard.

Hubs: Want to see Remy do his best work?
Me: I think I should call the farmer.
Hubs: Don’t be ridiculous.
Me: Some of those cows seem pretty big.
*Hubs releases the hounds*

You might hear me in the background, “I don’t feel great about this.” I might have dropped the ball on Remy’s training, but I’ve got a lot invested there regardless. He did get some of the calves through. After a few failed attempts at the big bull I offered to call the farmer. This was, again, rejected.

That is me saying, “this is a lot of activity for a Tuesday morning.” The kids were dying about the cows mounting each other. All day they talked about, “and then that one cow wanted a piggy back ride!”

I’m just going to let that one go for now. Even I have my limits.

It was picture day at school, so while I was playing National Geographic photographer I was also convincing them to brush hair and wear clothes that weren’t yesterday’s.

The story ends with … calling the farmer. To Remy’s credit, I think he got a few babies through. And to Hubs’ credit, he got some of the mamas through. The bull outlasted us all. I think he might have a name, I’m going to ask the farmer next time I see him.

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