Scary Cow

 Our training session began with grooming, including using a hoof pick on both front hooves (briefly).  JJ was on a roll!  We went for another walk around the farm, which he does seem to enjoy.  This time, we wound our way around the trees in the front yard to the other side of the house, where there is a big open area all the way back to the round pen.  I had a few cones and a small jump in the round pen set up from when we rode the horses earlier.  As we were walking in that direction, past the horse pasture...

(Fiona the cow)  Hang on!  I want to tell this part of the story!  

(Me)  Fine.  Go ahead, Fiona.  Troublemaker.

(Fiona the cow)  The oppression of cattle began long, long ago....

(Me)  Oh brother!

(Fiona)  Ahem.  Anyway, horses were eventually brought in as co-conspirators to be used against all of cowdom.  But the insult of insults was when they turned the donkeys against us.  Our brethren in that little stable, alongside the King of Kings, had always been a kindred spirit.  Neither one appreciated for its labor.  Both the ox and the donkey were called slow and lazy.  I cannot tell you how much it pained me when that donkey jenny came to our farm and TEASED us.  She romped and played while pinning her big ears and making faces!  It was terrifying!  We had gotten along perfectly well with the other donkeys that had shared our pasture on occasion (though they were usually in the barn with the horses).  See, that really was the issue.  She associated too much with HORSES, which every cow knows harbor a serious grudge against all of cowdom.  Why?  You ask?  It's because horses claim that they have to do all the labor while we get to graze all day.  Petty!  But, I digress...

Yesterday, while minding my own business, I noticed one of the humans (the one that gives treats and pokes us with needles "for our own good") was walking with a young donkey.  The donkey was giving us nervous looks.  SInce I remember all too well, the vicious attack against our peace by Rosie the donkey, I was understandably wary.  They were on the other side of the fence, but, still, Rosie's actions cut deep, I tell you.  So, I snorted.  A warning to my daughter and half sister.  The donkey's eyes grew big, so, feeling the sweet tickle of revenge, I snorted again.  The donkey looked up and I got a surprised look from the human.  After that, it was easy.  I threw my marvelous head and kicked up my happy heels in a graceful bovine ballet towards the fenceline.  The results were spectacular!  The donkey bolted and the human let go.  Then, the human yelled at ME!  As if years of oppression by Rosie hadn't even happened.  The human fetched the donkey and tried again.  I did more of a modern dance routine this time with the same result.  The donkey was fetched, again, and turned out in the round pen.  The human went inside to get the boy.  They came into the pasture and we followed them into our pen, expecting some congratulations or acknowledgment of our justifiable desire to get even. Or, at least some food.  Nope.  THEY LOCKED US IN!  Then, the human fetched the donkey and they walked back to the horse barn.  No more dancing with donkeys today.  Oh, but I have the sweet, sweet memories to carry me through the dark, cold night...

(Me)  Cold?  This is Florida.  

(Fiona)  Do not interrupt, human.  I'm having a moment here.  I must get word to cowdom everywhere to notch one up for the poor, har-assed cow.  

(Me)  Nice pun.

(Fiona)  Thank you.

(Me)  Okay, so, the guest blogger, our Dexter cow, Fiona, explained why poor JJ now thinks cows are carnivorous.  We got through it and he trusted me to lead him back past the pasture (although with Fiona locked up away from the fence).  Since we have a perimeter fence around our farm, I opted to let him bolt, rather than suffer ropes burns.  We will have to get past that.  I did some tight circles with him after we returned to the barn, which I can hopefully use, when he tries to bolt again.