Bling’s a girl with much to say.
Recently I was talking to a customer on the phone and something I said struck him as funny and unbelievable.
I saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about my statement, I was simply explaining how things work. Which just goes to show I’m now living in a completely parallel universe.
We were talking about raising cows and he was asking about how I did certain things. I replied that it was actually pretty simple. The cows tell me what they need and I just do what they say.
He asked me to repeat this a couple of times, and thought I was pulling his leg. This is when I realized how ridiculous I sounded, but really, I was just telling it like it is.
Hey Lady, scratch my chin….
What do cows have to complain about? Mostly unsatisfactory water & minerals, escapees and intruders. Or, maybe it’s time to move to fresh grass.
Sometimes they need my help, like a mother whose baby is on the wrong side of the wire, or Molly the day she got lost in the woods.
Molly thinks I’m the concierge and doesn’t hesitate to bellow for room service. This steamy summer morning, Molly got herself lost somehow. She perched on this hilltop and hollered until I figured out how to get her home. I think it’s time to tell Molly about tipping the wait staff…
Just what I felt like doing that sticky morning – plowing my way through 5-foot tall brush & Jagger bushes to find a way to lead Molly back to the pasture.
Ellis was a bull who always had a gripe. Ellis is hot. Ellis is cold. I’m pretty sure Ellis referred to himself in first person…
The girls had lots to say the day Ellis smashed up all the water troughs…
Hey! Lady! LADY! Fix this, fetch this, take care of this right NOW!
These fellows are still little and shy. They’re not bossy yet, but their first snow day, they followed me around all day; single file, timid, but persistent. I guess they thought I could bring their grass back…
How do they let me know? Believe me, there’s nothing subtle about it.
They know the sound of my car, my tractor and my quad. The bawling begins as soon as they hear my engine start.
And there they’ll be, ready for me, all bunched up by the gate, designated leaders out front. It’s not hard to figure out what they want – they point to what they need and you just have to fix it.
Then, as quick as it started, it’s over. Back to the important business at hand: dinner.
Clearly not today, but soon, please. You know all’s well when they ignore you.
Trust me, they don’t call ’em Bossy for nothing.