7 of 32

Write now Article Tools

Now if there was ever a story of some city mice living in the country! After living in the city my whole life, my parents decided to move out to a farm and try something new. By something new, they meant no power, no running water, and a little place in the middle of nowhere. Before we left our comfortable city life for good, my mom and I came up to paint our new farm house.

As yet, we had no little critters on out piece of heaven on earth, so as we drove in the yard we felt no need to shut the gate. We unpacked the supplies, and attacked the walls with the gusto only two soon to be cowgirls could muster. It was hot, tired work, and we were happy to settle down for a rest in front of the floor to ceiling window in the living room and look out at our kingdom as the rain came down in sheets and washed the dusty barn to a shining red.

Then it happened. A lone cow came barreling through the gate, carrying on as only a lost cow can. My mother grabbed my arm in fright and shreaked, "Don't move or she'll see us and come running through the window." I looked at my mother, I was stunned. Even I knew that a cow, lost in the rain, would care less if I happened to be in my house wandering around. But seeing the look of fear I decided to oblige her and stayed as still as possible, while trying to stifle a laugh as she commando crawled to the phone to call our cousin who lived a few miles away.

"There is a cow in our yard," she whispered as if the cow might hear her and come attack the house in a rampage, "what do I do?" I ached to hear what the reply was - you could almost hear our cowboy cousin rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. She got off the phone and looked at me seriously, "He says it will probably just run out on its own. He says that we are living beside a community pasture and we ought to keep our gate closed." I'm sure she was also thinking, "Oh God, we are surrounded by killer cows."

So we watched and waited, and as soon as the cow ran back the way she came, my mom shoved me out the door screaming, "Hurry! Don't let the cows get you!" as I sprinted to the gate to keep any further killer cows from trespassing.

We eventually made friends with our neigbour cows, who we frequently had to coax into moving as they layed in front of our gate, refusing to budge, when we wanted to go get the mail, or pick up a quart of milk, but that was as close to being cowgirls as we got. We raised sheep instead.

Learn more about this author, Jessica Callele.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Cowboy humor: True stories about cattle?
We want to hear your view. Write now!