It was a beautifully fresh morning after a light shower overnight with everything glittering brightly from the reflected sunlight on the raindrops.
The phone rings. I see that it's Martin, so being in a teasing mood, I answer extra cheerfully knowing he's usually grumpy first thing in the morning.
"Oh, Marilyn, I'm going to shoot those…." In my mind I'm finishing his sentence with "sheep" because I know he's ready to shoot them pretty much everyday for some antic or another as they frolic through the fields. But, he said "cows"!
"Cows"? Not those gentle creatures that just eat grass and lay around in the pasture contentedly chewing their cuds? Well, sometimes they do cause some grief and pain, like the time Blackberry wasn't keen on Martin holding her new calf and took a run at him with her head lowered giving him a good whack in the shoulder. Ouch!
"What happened, Martin?" Sigh.
"I went out to check on them this morning and some 'turkey' had popped a clip off the electric fence, grounding it, so they all just took off for the dugout pasture. They were romping around in the dirt, or rather mud, by the dugout, making a mess and getting mud all over their heads and legs.
"I tell you, I'm going to shoot them."
"On the other hand, they did go back into their pasture nicely and I guess, they get to live another day."
"Now, the weatherman! That's a different story. The forecast was for sunny warm weather. So, I cut the hay. Now, it keeps raining on it. I'm going to shoot the weatherman…right after I shoot myself for believing him."
"Don't bother, Martin. It's a nice day and you have work to do."
As it turned out, the cows were happily back in their pasture without any casualties and the hay dried out enough to be baled before we got this last downpour. And Martin, well, he's still grumpy in the morning, but most days he's cheery and thankful to be a farmer…like pigs fly. Just kidding. He does like being a farmer.