My dad named his cows (and their names just might have been the same as some of the women in town whose personalities and traits may have had some semblance to certain said women). It seemed perfectly normal to me and I thought my friend's dad must have been a little strange, as their cows were all named "Cow". I questioned almost nothing my dad ever did or said...other than that one time when I learned my lesson.
There was one cow that was a bit high strung. I'm sure she far surpassed her namesake, especially as time went on. She always made me very nervous, staring me down on a regular basis. Dad knew about this and told me to stay away from her the best I could, advice I took quite seriously. One day, however, I was stuck in the middle of the corral, boots on, mucking in the manure, when I found myself unavoidably in the same general area as this bovine. I was trying to hurry as fast as bow-leggedly possible when she gave me a look that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. All I seemed to lack at the moment was a red cape.
Pure adrenaline shot through my entire body. In one second, I learned cow language and the words she screamed were: "I hate you and I am going to kill you...right now!" I was a good ten paces from the fence but covered them all in about five seconds flat, even leaving one of my boots right where it got stuck, finishing in stockinged foot. (At times like these, you don't care about such details.) I hit that fence at full speed, second rung from the top. If I had had five more seconds to build up speed, I could have cleared the thing like an Olympic high jumper. At almost exactly the same moment my foot hit that rung, she smashed into the fence right below me, THUD!
I don't remember going back for the boot, but my dad took her to the auction the very next day.
I REMEMBER A HOLSTEIN NAMED ANNIE
WHOSE “HOMING DEVICE” WAS UNCANNY;
SHE WAS CRAZY AND MEAN,
A WILD MILKING MACHINE
AND WAS ALWAYS CHASING MY FANNY!
Hahahahaha! Learned cow language! FUNNY!
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