She was a pretty cow. A big polled Hereford but she was only half bagged up. So they sorted her off.
These were pretty rangy cows and when they got separated from the big bunch they got nervous. Rex and Clair dropped her over into the “questionable” pen to run her though the chute. Rex wanted to check her bag.
The big cow had fire in her eyes when she saw Rex. She charged him! He raced to the fence. Clair stepped in front of the one-cow stampede and swung at her with a broken plastic whip. She changed directions, missed him by a hare’s breath and cleared the fence herself!
I say ‘cleared the fence.’ I mean ‘almost cleared the fence.’
Rex was proud of his new fence. He built it of Red Brand welded wire 4-by-6-foot panels and cedar posts. He ran a line of treated 2-by-8s around the top.
The cow in question drove a hind foot through one of the squares in the welded wire panel. She hung up and straddled the fence like a limp cheese stick crawling out of the bowl.
“Lemme run and get the bolt cutter, Rex. We can weld it back later.”
“No. I wanna check her bag first,” he said.
The way the cow was draped over the 2-by-8, her bag was at eye level. Clair could see the look on Rex’s face. “Don’t do it,” she said.
Rex reached out, grabbed the proffered tit and squeezed. A foul smelling clump of cottage cheese hit him square in the face.
At the same time he pulled, she made a tremendous effort to escape. She fell back down inside the pen, ripping off the welded wire panel in a shower of staples. She rose with the panel still around her foot.
Wearing her giant snowshoe, she stomped, shuffled and cha-cha’d her way back through the cows in the questionable pen. They spooked and scattered to the four points of the compass, but all unerringly, managed to find the new gap in the fence and join the rest of the herd.
All escaped except the cow with the fly swatter foot. Clair roped her and held her down long enough for Rex to cut the panel off with the bolt cutters. They let her up and she followed the other cows.
Rex wiped a clod of curd off the bill of his cap. “Well,” he said philosophically. “At least we know.”