This is one of my dad's cows we called the 'crazy white cow.' (Our cows were usually referred to by some physical characteristic. As any farm kid can tell you, you don't name something that you may someday eat.) This cow was certifiably insane and wild as a buck. She hated everyone and everything, and would chase anyone who stepped foot in her pasture, except my dad. She especially disliked my mom....and me. Once, in a moment of temporary insanity, I agreed to help my parents castrate her calf. We couldn't get her up in the pen because she was too wild. My dad talked me into trying to castrate her calf in the field. That was an experience.
The calf was pretty young, so my dad was able to catch it & get it down without problem. I proceeded to use the castrator, naturally the calf started bawling. The crazy white cow charged. Notice her long horns. Those missed my ribs by maybe a quarter of an inch. It was only my mom's vigorous wielding of her sassafras walking stick that kept the crazy white cow from finishing what she started.
And people wonder why I went to law school instead of staying on the bucolic farm.
Alas, last year my parents decided that the cows were getting to be too much for them, and sold what was left of their herd. The crazy white cow was the last to go, mainly because my dad had trouble finding someone that would try to haul her to the sale barn. He finally found some brave soul and they managed to get the crazy white cow in the holding pen. The guy went into the pen to drive her up the loading chute. The crazy white cow took a good look at him, snorted and took off in pursuit. The guy ran across the pen, up the loading chute and into the cattle trailer...with the crazy white cow hot on his heels. He slipped out the side door of the cattle trailer and slammed the door behind her. Pretty smart, yes?
Now every time I bite into a hamburger I smile.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
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