Friday, February 02, 2007

Fake Cowboys

There has been a black cow in one of our pastures for a week. Today, after much searching, the owner showed. He came to my husband's work with two hired hands and said he was going to get his cow, right now. My husband said the cow wasn't bothering anything and that she wasn't coming up for feeding so he probably wouldn't be able to get her today, but that he would help him when he could leave. The man said, "The cow is mine and I'm going to take her now."

Hubby called and warned me Cowboy and hands were arriving. They came with two huge trucks: one pulling a cattle trailer. I went out and told them that I had fixed the gates in the barn so they could use the shoots, showed them where the cows get to the corral via the tunnel under the highway, and told them there was a gate at the underpass. The owner of the cow acted like he didn't need my help. He apologized for the cow getting into our pasture.

I called (I know y'all would love to hear that) the cows; our cows came running from the pasture across the road. Just as my husband told the fake cowboy, the black cow did not show. She isn't a part of the group, yet. My cows aren't unsociable, but they are a bit shy. Fake cowboy, standing in his completely clean rubber boots and starched burnt orange Ralph Lauren shirt couldn't believe his cow didn't show. He was still convinced he could take his cow home.

He told his help to back his trailer to the gap across the road and put some feed in the trailer so the cow would just come into the trailer from points unknown in the 80 acre pasture. To his hired help's credit they didn't laugh in his face, but they did say, "It'll never happen."

He said, "Let's just try."

I said, "The cow isn't bothering anything and she'll come up in a few days." When he didn't seem convinced, I told him that he should go out to the pasture and walk the cow around the fence line and if she wanted to go home she would go back through the fence where she came. He said, "Really!"

I said, "Most likely," but I was thinking "You don't know anything. Who are you? I don't remember you when I was growing up here. Why are you pretending you know what you are doing?"

He told his help to go across the highway. One smart man walked. Fake cowboy and his brother got in their huge trucks and drove them into my pasture, which is not much more than a bog after a week of rain. They drove around the pasture for a while, trying to lure the cow and push her through the fence. Then, they left. They didn't come by the house. They just left.

The cow is still in the pasture.

I have a confession. When I saw them drive their big truck into my pasture, I let the yellow dog out of the house to "help." I thought it would speed the realization that the cow would not be caught on the open pasture with trucks.

Before y'all start judging me, let it be known that if anyone admits that he needs help I would help until I couldn't anymore. I would have saddled the horse and gotten the cow into the trailer. But, I do resent people showing up on my place and pretending that they are cowboys when they have never touched a cow and have never, even, read a book. I do resent fake cowboys driving their big trucks in my marshy pasture so there will be ruts big enough to hide a cow.


JoVE said...

Even a city girl like me can see that driving a truck in a muddy pasture is a bad idea. Not to mention the arrogant attitude. I don't suppose he let you know how to get ahold of him when his cow does come down with the others?

Frankie said...

Good for you! No judgment here, I'd have done the same thing.

Mother Crone's Homeschool said...

YOu have me rolling with this one. I wouldn't have helped the arrogant jerk either, since he was so rude from the get-go.

I can only imagine his boots where shiny alligator ones with brass tips! LOL!

Sister Susan said...

Even I, being gone from the country some 27 years, remember a few things about cows. (Not the smartest creatures on earth) I do think letting yellow dog out was a little unneighborly. Funny and deserved though.

zilla said...

There are more than a few suburbanite giggles over here. Who IS this fake cowboy, anyway, and why hasn't he made it a point to get acquainted with neighboring farmers?

In my mom's neighborhood, cows are always getting loose and having to be reclaimed. The difference is, the neighbors ALL know each other, because they understand the importance of knowing each other.

So last week, a city-slicker couple and their small kids went into the ditch across from Mom's drive. They were trying to visit friends up the road -- steep, hilly, curvy, snow-covered rural Vermont road that isn't Lincoln Town Car-friendly this time of year. To get a cell phone signal, one would need to drive five miles back toward town, so the family needed to come in to use the telephone and get warm. My mother (a born suburbanite) and her husband (retired Wall Street lawyer) thought the entire situation was hilarious. The family was gracious and very concerned about putting my folks out. Eventually, a neighbor arrived with a tractor and extracted the Town Car from the ditch.

The next time my folks ventured down the hill to the general store, Chuck, the owner, handed them a bottle of red and a bottle of white, along with a hand-written thank you note from the very grateful city slickers.

Completely unnecessary, but very thoughtful and appreciated.

I think Fake Cowboy could use a semester of "finishing school."