Tag Archive: Cows

Redneck Roundup

We live on a farm.  Have we ever farmed? No.  Well take that back, about 15 years ago we had a small head of cattle we thought we would try our hands out on.  These cows were fine until they got bigger and decided to get out one Sunday.  I left for church leaving my husband behind.  The last I saw of him as I was pulling out was him scaling the fence in his suit.  When he eventually showed up to church he was wearing something different.  I didn’t want to know what happened because he was already mad, but I was stupid enough to ask anyway.  He had split out his pants climbing  the fence.  We sold the cows and and partied hard on the money we got for them.

That has been the extent of farming.  We have either let someone else use the land for farming or else did nothing with it.  We have sworn off renting to anyone with animals.

Cowboys and roundups are synonymous.  Roundups involves getting on a horse and herding the animals from one grazing area to another.  This usually takes more than one cowboy to accomplish this task.  Many times we will have a road shut down for a bunch of cows.

Some cowboys are on the trails for days or even weeks.  But, not my husband.  He tried his hand today at rounding up cattle that perhaps cowboys might want to take a lesson from.

My husband’s car is the butt of many jokes in this house.  We call it the “Grandma Car” because it is the kind old people drive. He uses it for work and it truly is a piece of carp.  It has a huge dent in one side with the paint scraped off.  We have gotten our $500 out of it though. None of the kids want to ride in it and my son had to take it for his driver’s test because my truck’s air compressor went out.  He was dying, in fact he apologized to the cop for him having to ride in it.

I came home from school today and noticed there were tire marks going across the lawn and into the field.  I came in to the house and asked my husband who had been driving through the field.  He told me he went on a cattle drive.   He had come home and found a few cows in the yard.  Instead of getting out of the car and chasing them home, he decided that “grandma” would be more effective.

Knowing my husband, this would  not have been a quiet drive through the country.  He is a fairly patient individual, but even patient people have their moments of aggrevation. I am sure there are huge patches of earth torn up from “grandma’s”  acceleration abilities.   We have a few acres of land and I am not entirely sure how many of those acres were covered by him and “grandma” today, the tire marks disappear after a point.  I really quit asking questions after awhile because I figure what I don’t know I don’t have to confess to.  The next step is to buy my husband a cowboy hat, a pair of boots, some chaps and a new oil pan.

My kids better NEVER say anything to me again about “herding” with the BB gun.  Oh, and by the way….Grandma isn’t for sale, so don’t call the number.  I am not exactly sure who the number belongs to.


PETA Reform School

I am opening up a PETA reform school.  It will be held right here at my house.  Guaranteed or your money back!

I am a true believer that God put animals on this earth for our enjoyment and for our sustenance.  There are animals to enjoy and animals to eat.  There are actually some that border in between, but I am not going to discuss cats right now.  I will take that up with the Boss when I get to heaven.

The ” Mr. Hyde”  in me has started to resurface after a few months of dormancy.  My children have turned to hiding my weapons of attack and banned me from using theirs.  What is this world coming to that the children rule the house?  Anyway, I need to explain the situation.

As of late, I have been having an animal control problem.    This didn’t just start last week, this has been going on for years.  Hence the reason why my patience has grown thin.

When the problem first started, I would patiently go out and shew the animals (goats, cows, horses, chickens, ducks, pigs, pot belly pig) back into their yard.  One particular week, I put 5 cows back into their yard 7  times in one day.  This problem has gone on for years.  I would come home and find my newly planted trees chewed to the ground.  I would find goats in apple tree stripping the branches clean.  One day it was so bad with the goats that I came home to find my sister, who lived across the street at the time, sitting in my front yard in a lawn chair.  I asked her what was up and she told me she had chased the goats out 4 times and decided to stay to protect my trees until we got home.

Another week I was constantly chasing 6 piglets out of my yard.  They would burrow in my flowers and destroy them.  As these piglets got bigger, they became more of a pain.  My husband got his gallbladder out and the first night home, he heard the dog barking and found the pigs burrowing up our septic tank. They made their way through the neighborhood burrowing up three septic tanks.  Our grass unfortunately has never grown back.  My husband could have done some serious damage to himself running around like that after just having surgery.  He was up most of the night because the pigs kept coming back.

This forced us to put a fence around our back yard.  It cost us a lot of money, but we were also losing money with damaged property.  We finally had to not rent our land out anymore because of the lack of animal control.  You would have thought that this would have solved the problem, um….no.  We left the fence around the field, but would still find various animals in the yard.  I have gotten pretty tired of finding cow, goat and horse poo in my grass, chicken and duck poo on the sidewalk, and duck and chicken eggs laying wherever they are dropped.

This my dear friends has turned Dr. Jekyl into Mr. Hyde.  The week we had problems with the pigs, I decided that nice wasn’t working.  Pigs can be scary and mean, so I brought out my trusty slingshot.  Actually I admit, I bought it specifically with the pigs in mind.  One windy day, my dog started barking and here came the herd of pigs headed right for our yard.  I grabbed a bunch of rocks and ran to the outside and hid behind a shed.  I didn’t want to get attacked, nor did I want witnesses to what I was about to do.  Rocks don’t fly well with slingshots.  You can’t determine their accuracy because of their odd shapes.  Consider that a warning.  I loaded and pulled to release only to hit the shed at close range (2 inches) and the rock came back and hit my thumb.  I seriously thought I broke it.  I went into my bedroom to lick my wounds and to hide my indiscretions from my kids.  I didn’t want them knowing I had been shooting at the pigs.  I ended up having to go to the medical clinic and was horrified when the doctor asked me how it happened.  I asked him, “Do I really have to say?”  He told me it would help to determine damage I did.  I thought the doctor was going to fall on the floor laughing.  That was a first for him.  Had never treated an injury that had happened like that before.  Then I got ripped into by my daughter when we got in the car who told me that I should not have been shooting them to begin with.   A few months later, she and my husband had a run in with the pot belly pig that fenced him and her.  My husband’s weapon of choice…..flyswatter.  What?  That doesn’t work.  He and my daughter had to climb the fence to get away and I look out the window to see them both on top and my husband swinging at the pig with a flyswatter.   As the pig was going at their legs.

This began my “life of crime”.  I realized that no slingshot was going to work for me.  So, I purchased a BB gun at a garage sell.  This BB gun was only $6.  It turned out costing us $156 because my son shot the window out of our suburban the day I bought the gun.  This was not good.  This day, my husband was Mr. Hyde.  I seriously saved my son’s life this day.  He still owes me for that.

I practiced and practiced until I have became quite proficient with the BB gun.  I nailed a critter climbing my apple tree from about 200 feet away.  Of course that took about 30 pumps to get it that far.  I found that shooting the BB gun was a lot more affective and I didn’t have to run or get kicked, attacked, or stepped on.  It got to where all I would have to do is pump  the gun and the animals would start running.  I called them Pavlov’s critters because I trained them to run at the sound.  Now I have only one rule.  I only aim for the butt.  If I don’t have a good shot at the butt, I don’t take it.  I don’t want to mame the poor critters.  So I still do have some shred of decency left in me. (I just envisioned the scene where Luke Skywalker is telling Vader that there is still some good him and he knows he can be reformed).

My kids have nearly put a stop to all my madness, to the likes of which I am extremely disappointed.  As of this past week, we have been running a cattle day spa in my yard.  I will leave, come home and find various cows laying in the shade of my lawn asleep.  All they are missing are the cucumbers slices over their eyes and the mud packs on their faces.  They’ve got it on their butts….well, I don’ t think that is mud.  If one of my  kids are with me, the first thing they say is…”You are not going to shoot it”.  What?  There is no fun in that.  Yesterday, I found out that one of my sons went out and tried physically pushing them out of the yard.  They wouldn’t budge.  So I don’t know why I am catching so much carp from these people.  BB guns work, nothing else does.

Last night, we had a cow hanging with his ” homey”  in the yard and I went for my BB gun.  It was no where to be found.  This folks….is highly suspicious.  My son absolutely refused to let me use his and “didn’t” know where mine was.  So I told him that he could go get them out of the yard then.  Yeah, that didn’t work.

I had to take him and my other son to work and came home to find the “gang” still in the yard.  This time……it was only my husband and I and I went for the gun, swearing an oath of secrecy between the both of us.  I get this kind of evil giggle when I nail them in the butt.  I don’t know why I find that so funny.  That is kind of messed up I guess.  My husband came into my daughter’s bedroom finding me in the sniper position shooting out of her window.  It was working great.  That cow’s speed was quite impressive.  Didn’t know cows could run that fast.  I managed to keep them out until this morning.  They are back, like a bad nightmare.

So I have torn my house apart and cannot find my gun.  I do have a Walther P22 if worse comes to worse, but I won’t kill an animal unless it is going to kill me or one of my kids.  It might get a lot uglier around this house before it gets prettier.  Because if I can’t find my BB gun, carp is going to fly and everyone better watch out.  My  children think I am evil.  My husband yells,”Get the gun” at me every time something is in the yard.  I am trying to come to terms with who I really am Dr. Jekyl or Mr. Hyde or…who I want to be.  I have to admit, the thrill of the target does get the old heart beating faster.

So, for about three weeks now I have been having a turf war with the neighbors cow.  I am a somewhat patient person, but even this has pushed this mother’s buttons to the limit.  I find myself thinking very evil thoughts more often which is not becoming of my character.  Just two days ago I thought, “I would like to tie an anchor onto that cow’s neck and drop kick it into the well”.  Or there was this thought, “I would like to put that cow into the neighbors front yard and let it roam and eat all of their trees and flowers”.  Or how about the day I came home and it was standing in my driveway trying to take on my car.  I reved the engine and it pawed the ground.  I wasn’t having it.  I gassed it and flew at the cow slamming on the brakes at the last minute.  It had a small affect on it.  Then it was back.

No matter how many times, my neighbor has seen his cow out, he does nothing to put it up.  This has become very frustrating to me.  So yesterday like a good neighbor, I chased the cow about a mile away from it’s home with a loaded BB gun.  I thought it would get lost in the other neighbor’s corn field along with the group of chickens we chased in there a couple of days ago…..but no….it still came back.  Like a horrible stray cat that keeps showing up on your front porch and you can’t get rid of.  You take it for a drive…it comes back….you run it over…..it still comes back….you don’t feed it…..it still stays.

The cow hears the pumping of the BB gun and starts running.  You would think that it would eventually put two and two together and realize when it comes to the “greener side of the fence”, it is going to feel pain.

If it was the old west, that cow would now belong to me or it would have been shot by me and ate for dinner.  I wonder if an animal spends a certain amount of time on someone else’s property if that animal’s ownership transfers over to a new owner.  Ponder that one for the law books.