All the cows but 8 made their way to the barn this morning after Dan had crossed them from the Consider Bardwell pasture into ours. It was my job, at 6:33, to track down the gang of truants while Dan got started milking the rest of the herd who’d gone straight to the barn with no dilly dallying. Somehow I knew Cedar, due to freshen soon and newly returned from the dry cow pasture a few miles away, would be involved.
As soon as I spied the hoodlums I knew I was right. That big, bossy lady stood lookout while the rest took their time grazing among the bee balm.
After a multitude of threats and insults, they grudgingly took their time and meandered off toward the barn. Dilly dallying takes effort though and parched from all the slacking off, they had to stop and quench their thirst at the water tub like a gang of sweaty school kids dawdling around a drinking fountain.
Milking finished and a new day and a fresh chunk of pasture ahead of them, they all make their way back over they hill to see what other mischief Cedar can plan for them.