When The Cows Come Home

Since we moved in to our house, oh, 'bout 8 years ago, the field immediately behind our property has been hay.  The first year I saw the owner making cool round hay bales I was in love.  

I love living rural.  The suburban city child in me is all a-gog with it.

That's a pic of our backyard apple tree, with the barbed wire fence & hay field beyond.  What's not to love about that?

Then, the other day, this happened...

Do you see him?  And he had friends!

The cows had arrived.  

They were literally rightthere, right across our yard.  

Cows.  Lots of them.  Red ones & white ones & black ones & lots of baby calves.  

They came in the late afternoon from the dairy farm on the other side of the hill.  We knew they arrived because our sweet fat beagle (The Doctor) & wiry terrier (Alice) had an absolute blissful fit of barking until they wore themselves out from gleefully running up & down the fence line.  I think the cows awoke their inner herders.  

Even Poosh got involved, jumping on the windowsill & yapping away until he realized they meant no harm.

And they moo'd.  Low echoing moos back & forth.

And it was the coolest thing ever.

Dear dairy farmer across the way.

Please, please, please keep letting your cows come over to visit.  I will totally do cow portraits for you free of charge.

We love them.  They make us happy.

Thank you.