by Sara R. Bradley

Created on: August 12, 2008   Last Updated: September 21, 2008

Holy Cow! Literally. My just completed flower bed was just smashed and eaten by a cow- and we lived in town! This huge walking, sometimes stampeding, behemoth of a beast crushed my daisies, tulips, irises and miscellaneous shrubs to smithereens.

In my red lined vision, I was dreaming that this beast would be laid upon the grill for dinner. During the time that this steak on legs was making my flowers into dinner, I was trying to keep my three-year old from the same fate that my flowers had just suffered.

After working for several weekends, the proof of our labor looked as if should be a compost pile rather than my gorgeous and well tended flowers.

I did what any half crazed woman would do- I sat down on the porch and bawled. I was seriously distraught. Complete with the hiccups and sniffles, I may have been a little too loud. The cow turned hoof and ran for a more sane person's lawn.

Weekend after weekend of hauling dirt from the lovely topsoil pile, which the dump truck driver had dumped half in our drive and half in the yard (bless his misguided heart). All the measuring and cutting of the landscaping border. The time spent at the nursery, carefully selecting the plants that we could afford and would add to as we were able. Keeping our little boy from consuming all of the topsoil before we could actually plant something in it. And now a cow, of all things, had all but destroyed it. Not a natural disaster or a flower bed fire caused by combustion, a cow did this.

At least my Japanese maple, which I babied and pampered, still seemed to be okay. Apparently, cows do not like to eat Japanese maple's and prefer not to trample down expensive trees. Well, I must say that this particular cow had taste.

Spring turned to summer. And summer into fall. The flower bed was slowly becoming what it once was and what we wanted it to be. I was still paranoid, though. I would jerk my head quickly around every time the moo's from the farm a couple miles away would drift towards me. I just knew that our friendly neighborhood cow was mocking me. Then I would have to put my finger over my right eye to stop the twitching.

As the flower bed came back together and the little Japanese maple continued thriving, we enjoyed grilling and therapy at the same time. 100% Beef never tasted so good.

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