So yesterday, we woke up to a lot of the neighbor’s cows in our yard, eating our favorite tree and pooping all over the place. Some of those cows are sick or something, because that was a lot of dribbly runny cow poop flung all over the place.
The cows hung around for a while, then wandered off, then they came back. Sunshine got on his handy four wheeler and drove them all out, and we parked his huge ass truck blocking the driveway opening in the fence (thinking that would keep them out). The neighbor lady called the sheriff on the cows, but it was like they knew the cops were coming because they all high-tailed it to some unknown hiding spot across the road from whence they came.
Wrong. They returned, breaking the fence and squishing between the fence and the big ass truck. I’m just gonna throw it out there that somebody is very very lucky that the truck was not damaged, because we’ve been needing to get out from under insurance payments on one of the trucks and that certainly would have done it nicely for us.
The cows returned. With a vengeance. I counted 32 cows in our backyard, at least 5 or 6 in the road in front trying to figure out how to get in, and at least 12 (possibly 20) across the street in the tractor repair shop’s yard.
I called the cops. On the cows.
I called the cops on the cows.
How did this become my life?
The deputy showed up, had the dispatcher do some research, called the owner of record, the owner sent his hand and his very own son to deal with the cows, and I woke up cow free this morning.
I never would have imagined my life would take me to such a place that I had to call the cops on some cows.