Like Marie Osmond, I’m a little bit country and a little bit rock n’ roll.
Lately, there’s been more rockin’ out here in the country than suits me, even if I do like to dance.
And that’s just what I had to do this week when I spotted some pesky intruders on our front lawn. (And let me tell you, if you think your neighbor’s dog is bad, things could be worse.)
“Billy, come quick! The cows are in our front yard!” My SOS echoed through the house as I raced outside, Bill right behind me.
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“Run up the road and block them off,” my husband yelled as he circled around behind them. “I’ll herd them your way. Open the gate!”
Honestly, I really don’t mind staring down a stray dog or two. But when it comes to an animal bigger than a large appliance and smaller than a Hummer, I like to stay out of its way. Mainly, because I want to live.
Oh, don’t be fooled by the sweet creatures you see on the side of milk cartons. Those cud-chewing cows aren’t always placidly following behind the farmer while discussing the state of cheese. In reality, they have a take-charge attitude.
I was considering this very thing as I peered into the whites of the wide-eyed animals charging my way. I figured that at the rate the cows were traveling they would arrive ... Oh phooey! I never was any good at word problems.
So I threw up my arms, which is what I learned to do on our recent trip to Alaska. This works for bears. Not for cows.
Instead of shooing into our pasture gate as planned, one milk dud veered off toward our backyard, the other heifer close on its heels. Within seconds I heard some awful noise coming from that direction and figured farmer Bill was in hot pursuit.
“Here I come!” I screamed, thinking two heads -- make that four head -- were better than one. Then again, maybe not.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Dodging, darting, and dancing, we were like four amateurs attempting the Paso Doble.
Obviously, the cattle had never learned to follow.
Maybe I’m “milking” this, but notice that you never read any parables in the Good Book talking about a shepherd and his cattle? It’s always sheep. And I think I know why.
They hear the Good Shepherd’s voice and they follow Him.
In a time when our country is rockin’ and rollin’, maybe we should take their lead.