I wanna go somewhere where nobody knows
I wanna know somewhere where nobody goes
Following gold lines on the ground, northbound, southbound.
There’s something ’bout the way I feel when the pens knocked down… pushed down…
Cowgirl vagabond, crazy little heifer
Moooving right along to the next big pasture
Oh, hay! Jump over fences…
Quick stop, rest stop, next stop breakfast…
Cowgirlin’ like a wild west show
I don’t care, just as long as we go
my way…
Walking for more supper…
Get off the road and run through some backyards… Okay!
… but if I ain’t caught now then I ain’t slowing down tonight. If I run in these woods then he ain’t finding me tonight.
Cowgirl Vagabond!
On Saturday afternoon, our neighbor bought this pretty girl at a local sale. By evening when the sun went down, she broke out of his pen and began running the roads. We had a knock at the door around 9:30pm by a lady telling us we had a cow out on the road and they almost hit it. A storm had also just rolled in and it was pouring rain and thundering and pitch black at night.
My dad knew he had just fed our cattle and they were all there, but often cows do things at the worst times. So, he cranked up the side-by-side and drove up the hill: all of our cows were still in the pen.
He drove down to the road but the lights weren’t bright enough on our side-by-side so he returned and exchanged for the truck. After exploring the road both sides of our property and using a flashlight to spot the fields, a cow was never visible and we knew all of ours were home so we called it a night.
By early Sunday morning, a knock was at our door again. This time a young man on a 4-wheeler drove up to let us know we had 2 cows out in the road. How in the world.
My dad hurried for his boots. I didn’t even have my contacts in, coffee, or had changed from my pajamas yet. Literally dressed from bed to the side-by-side. We counted our cattle in the pen quickly and yep, one was missing. But the guy said there were 2 on the road?
We skedaddled down the county road following the tracks of the guy’s 4-wheeler. Well, shoot. There were 2 cows standing in the ditch looking at us, and one of them was ours. The other cow still had a sticker on her back from the sale so we knew she had just escaped from her new home. Ah, it hit us – she must be the same cow from last night that we didn’t spot in the rain.
My dad got out and I scooted over to the drivers seat of the side-by-side. He got a bucket of feed out of the back and his long walking stick. My dad and the young guy began corralling the heifers as I slowly drove forward in hopes that they would follow me. Our cows know the sound of the side-by-side means dinner is about to be served, so we figured our cow would know to go with me and the other cow would follow her. A simple, romantic idea but it didn’t work. Our cow began following me, but the sale barn cow got spooked and bolted for the opposite side of the road and disappeared into the thick woods. They tried to block our heifer but she took off running and followed the other cow through the woods. The boys ran in behind them.
A few minutes later our cow reappeared out of the woods, stepping back onto the road with my dad guiding behind her. The other cow was nowhere in sight. But our cow didn’t make the next step so easy … She suddenly sprinted across the road, through the ditch, into the neighbor’s backyard and kept running into another patch of woods. My dad chasing behind, trying to get around her, followed into the woods with her and eventually lost sight of her. Tangled in spider webs, thorns, prickly leaves and stepping over broken branches, eventually he made his way back out down the hill on a dirt path. Now we had 2 cows on each side of the road in the woods.
Well, while dad was fighting through the woods, I called my mom and requested backup. I knew I couldn’t leave the side-by-side on the edge of the road – but if she brought my truck, we could lock it on the dirt path entrance and let her sit in the running side-by-side incase I needed to hop out and help corral the cow. Our cow never re-emerged from the woods. The guy on the 4-wheeler left the scene without saying a word. My mom drove up 10 minute later. Once my dad made his way to my mom and I, we traded out rides. He took the side-by-side to head home for a quick shower from the itchy weeds and my mom and I drove the truck along the county roads, searching both sides in hopes of seeing our heifer.
WELL. While my dad was home, he called to let us know the sale barn cow had trekked through the woods and ended up at our farm. She had jumped the fence and was in with our cows grazing at the hay ring like she lived here.
My dad was now immediately regretted running after our cow in the woods … saying if he knew the sale barn cow was heading to our farm, she would have led our cow with her. But who would have guessed that?!
My mom and I joined my dad at home. I was able to get contacts put in, grab some coffee, and throw my hair into a messy bun. My mom didn’t feel well so we let her rest instead of coming back out to search.
Within a few minutes, the sale barn cow moved away from our herd and walked back to the fence line by the woods and stood there. I drove off in the truck to sit by the road and wait if our cow showed back up.
20 minutes in, I saw the black and white cow (sale barn cow) emerge from the woods down the road and dart across the road, the same direction our cow had gone.
I called my dad … he was in the process of feeding and corralling all of our cattle into a confined area so they wouldn’t decide to follow her as well.
Suddenly I spotted the black and white cow down the hill where she’d run to, glaring at me from across the bean field. Good thing for the white face or I wouldn’t have seen her. A bad feeling considering our heifer is jet black all over.
She began walking up the dirt path and heading for the road again.
I gunned the truck and went past her to turn around. Just as I got settled facing her direction, she approached the road and to my surprise, began walking directly towards me without any hesitation. I snapped a pic (shared at the beginning) and then moments later, a vehicle rounded the corner behind her. I flashed my lights a few times to warn them and we both sat still, facing each other, waiting to see where this cow was going. She walked right past me in the ditch where it all started, and back into the woods. Not much I could do.
My phone rang and it was my dad. After calling and writing a handful of neighbors, we found the owner of the sale barn cow. They were on their way to get her with their side-by-side.
It became a several hour journey as we had multiple neighbors rally with us, working together to find both cows at this point.
Finally, the sale barn cow was spotted again – further down the road. She had broke in another pasture of a neighbor’s farm way down the road with all of his cows. Instructed from the farmer, the men held off to try and get her and the farmer suggested we wait a day or two and let her settle down.
Now the hunt was back on for our heifer. They searched his pen but didn’t see her in it. I went back to be on lookout duty by the road incase our cow showed up from the woods while 4 others were on search duty through and around the woods.
I was just glad to have some black coffee in my Etta B mug to help me wake up.
Into the late afternoon, I traded places with my dad as he and a few other men worked out a strategy in hopes of spotting our cow.
I went on home, cooked some lunch and gave Charlsie her bottle. I met my dad and gave him some water and lunch and we sat in the truck watching the fields. A while later, a few of the guys returned on their ATV’s and dad got out to talk. As they talked, I drove down the road for a while to scout through fields and yards, but then went back home without any luck.
As soon as I hopped out of the truck at home, I looked over and could hear all of our cows panting – almost wheezing. They had been corralled for several hours at this point in the blazing sun. I panicked.
Thinking as fast as I could, I remembered an empty trough in the old horse pen, so I loaded it on the tailgate of the truck and drove it over and dumped it into their corral. None of our water-hoses would reach their pen, so I stretched them as far as possible and had them running on high. I found an old 5 gallon bucket … Not ideal, but better than nothing. I filled it multiple times on the back of the truck and dumped it into their trough. If you didn’t know … 5 cows and 1 bull drink water really fast. I wore myself out but was running on adrenaline. They seemed miserable and I knew if these cows all had a heat stroke, we would have a much bigger problem than one cow loose. Once they got content and hydrated, I went to check on all the other animals and got myself a cool drink and sat down in the A/C.
About 10 minutes later, I started hearing loud bangs in the woods and got worried. I called my dad – no answer. Texted – no response. I jumped in the truck and took off where I’d seen them last, calling his phone repeatedly.
He finally answered. “Hey babydoll!” and had a slight laugh in his voice. I told him why I had gotten worried and he burst out laughing. I asked if there was any luck … He said they had just found our cow! YAY.
Can you guess where?
In the neighbor’s field … with the sale barn cow and all of his other cows. Just laying there like she lived her. My dad hollered out at her, the way he calls up our cows every evening. She looked over her shoulder at him and remained propped on the ground. He interpreted for her and said, “Hey don’t bother me right now. I’m on vacation!”
All the neighbors and farmers were all relieved and worn out. They all shook hands, made a plan for reuniting a day or two later with the trailer to load the girls up and safely deliver them back to their own farms.
It was not the way any of us saw Sunday going.
But it also gave me a small glimpse of what Mayberry might feel like. When we all come together and help each other out, there’s a much greater impact than standing on the sidelines observing someone else’s battle. Carrying the weight together (even though the phase goes something like Not My Cows, Not My Pasture, Not My Problem) I am sure grateful to those who pitched in and let the chaos of ours, and our neighbor, become their Sunday chaos too. Better together!
And now … these crazy heifers will remain on the naughty list until further notice.