Friday, August 6, 2010


Not wanting to have a riot in the barn this morning, we figured something had to be done about the lack of cookies for the bovine....

Ever wonder why the solution to things comes to you at 3:00 in the morning? Since we were awake anyway, we decided that it would be a good idea if I got up and high-tailed it into town, and come home with a fresh bag before milking.

So, there I was, sitting in the parking lot of the local farm store at 7:15. Unknown to me, the people who work there sleep late and don't open until 8:00. I had 45 minutes to kill, since I didn't want to waste a trip into town, and I knew the cows didn't want me to come home empty handed.

I headed on down to a couple of spots I scrounge from to see if anything was worth tossing into the truck, took a tour through the local fairgrounds (the fair is in a couple weeks), and drove by a couple of houses they recently tore down. I timed my return to the store to be "fashionably late" - 8:04 am.

The door was just being opened as I stepped up to it.

I "chastised" a couple of the workers for being able to sleep late (kidding, of course), and headed to the feed display part of the store.

I rounded the end of the isle, and sauntered up to the EMPTY space where the beloved cow cookies usually sit.....

Uh oh...I'm doomed, thought I, not only was it a wasted trip after all, but the cow people were NOT gonna be happy. I shuffled my feet along the floor as I headed back to the front door....

Woe, plague, pestilence, locusts and frogs - it was not looking good for the home team.

The girl at the counter asked me, as I drug slowly by - "Didn't find what you were looking for"?

"Nope, says I, "now I gots to go home and explain to the cows why they have no cookies."

After one of those "dog with the head tilted to the side" type of looks, she asked me what "cow cookies" were. I explained about the alfalfa cubes and my bovine's addiction, and she at least SEEMED to understand.

She reached down to the belt line of her jeans, grabbed her store radio, and asked if there were any Alfalfa Cubes unloaded off of the truck that was just pulling out of the driveway (I guess they don't sleep late after all).

The tiny voice boomed back from the box - "YES, SIR, YES SIR - THREE BAGS FULL!"
(They actually said that, then corrected it to 5 bags....)

Hallelujah! My life was saved!

Within a few seconds, the voice in the box came carrying in a bag of cookies on his shoulders, paused at the register to scan it, and carried it directly to my awaiting truck.

I headed home with a whole new outlook on life.

Daisy and Mabel were skeptical at first, but decided to chance it, Daisy being the braver of the two. I squeezed (squoze?) all the milk I could out of her, then headed for the cookie bag.

It's amazing how a day or two without makes them appreciate them all the more:


Both she and Mabel practically sucked my hand in to get them!


The odd thing is - when we first got them last spring, they wouldn't even TOUCH the things, now they are addicted.

Who wudda thunk?

About the only other new happenings around here is my new hairstyle. I kinda went with the pony tail, cow lick, comb over, Jamaican dredlock look....

Bad Comb Over

What you think, Mon?

1 comment:

  1. Her tail looks unusually poop free, My old cows dip the ends of theri tails in all the fresh poop they can find and then stand in the sun until it hardens into a fair sized mace and THEN swat my head with it.
    Be thankful they haven't learned THAT trick yet.

    Crane Man


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