The call of nature

As I pulled in to our lane this evening safe in the knowledge that I could up drawbridge and play farmers for the next 72+ hours I was surprised to find the gate to the Oracles yard shut. This is never shut. To get to Rock HQ Vic had to be piloted through his yard and our gate, up the long dirt track. As I opened the Oracle's gate he shouted at me. In a friendly sort of way from a long way off. The gist of his message was your cows in here. Somewhere.

And so began a highly entertaining evening where we tried to find Hetty amongst a large militia herd that contained a brute of a Belgian Blue Bull (he is truly massive) and dozens of assorted sized black cows. And calfs. And without the Oracle's help I am confident we would still be trying to get our little cow back. Our little cow was following the call of nature and had fallen for the bull, quite literally at one stage jumping 3 fences to get to him.

Lover boy can be seen lurking with intent to de flower our Hetty as we finally got her cornered (this took an hour, several trips in nettles/cowpats/bigger cowpats and water filled ruts) and after another frantic half hour or so managed to reduce the herd of around 50 excited vegetarian killing machines to four, one of which was our Hetty. After an honours degree in swearing she was finally lassoed and the halter put on her.

Which then led to a monster tug of war situation which only ended when she decided to drag the fat bloke trying to pull her all the way to her stall. Finally she dutifully walked in through the door and was rewarded with a bucket of oats while I went back to HQ to tend my rope burns, stings and strong desire for a rare steak.