Her name is Blossom. Anyone who has ever seen her will never forget her luscious brown eyes and the seductive sway of her bovine hips. She is classically covered in black and white. One would say that she is white with black spots and another may argue she is black with white spots. None of that is as important as Blossom's demeanor.

I first laid eyes on this bovine dream when we were visiting ranching friends. Being city slickers we were given the unique and distinct pleasure of riding with our ranching friend Mac out into their north 40 to check on a group of cows who were close to giving birth. The land was brown and dusty and so were the 2 ton tillies that gazed at us with disinterest as our vehicle crossed their paths. The excitement of our urban group soon waned after what seemed hours of bumping and bouncing along the dry, flat land.

Then out of the brown, dry wasteland appeared Blossom. She was like a rose bush among the thorns, a waterfall in the middle of the Sierra. Her wide God made body was standing directly in the path of our truck.

Mac rolled down his window and called out a greeting:

"Blossom, move your scurvy little butt out of our way".

Blossom shyly hung her head as she looked up at Mac between her long black lashes. I am sure she was embarrassed for never having met us and being called out like that from Mac. She seductively moved around so that we could see her disinterested tail give a few swats. She moved neither left, right, forward or backward but stood just as she was. Not afraid, in the least, to show us her bovine backside.

"Bloosssom", Mac's voice was low and demanding.

This time Blossom coyly looked over her shoulder, flicking her tail as she did so. My urban friends and I confirmed that she batted her eyelashes. We were witnessing pure unadulterated flirting by a bovine.

Mac could not help but laugh and I for one could not help but notice that there was a hint of red creeping up Mac's neck. Could it be true that this stately seductive cow could use the age old technique that only we as humans thought we had perfected? This animal was pulling acts that a midnight floozy would have been ashamed of.

The next move happen so fast (for a cow, that is) that I, just writing about it still can not believe it. Mac had rolled down his window to give Blossom the gentle prodding she needed and being distracted by the comments of us urban dwellers he had never thought to roll the window back up. One minute Blossom was standing with her backside facing us and the next her huge beautiful head was level with Mac's. Her giant carpet of a tongue swung out and stroked at Mac's hairline, catching his eyes, nose and lips as she did so. Her technique was less than grandeur but not one person in that vehicle that day denied her intent. Mac's worn cowboy hat lay slightly tilted on his head and the confused and bewildered look on his face laid waste to the giant uproar of laughter from the rest of the occupants of the truck.

There was no longer a hint of red on Mac's neck, now his entire face was the color of a giant, award winning tomato at state fair time. Before Mac could recover from his bovine love interest she seductively turned her body and wandered off the path into the brown, dry north 40. The last I saw of that gal was her black and white or white and black hips (depending on who you talk too) swaying gently from side to side as she wandered on to her next love quest.

Learn more about this author, Julia Heckart.
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