Between the Cows and Me, Again (The End)

I’ve said before that you should always imagine me like Bruce Willis in Die Hard.  I stand by that advice in spite of its preposterous inaccuracy.  However in my latest cattle adventure, the similarities numbered one more than usual: just like Bruce Willis in Die Hard, I was barefoot.

The rest of the similarities dissolve when I remind you that the part of the terrorists wasplayed by a dairy cow, albeit one with a very threatening countenance and a certain….  Well, I’ll call it gravitas, because it was aided by gravity.  Cows are big and heavy.

They are also not deaf.

As you might recall, in my efforts to report a fugitive cow, I had left the safety of my house to find the name of the street which runs beside it.  I blithely overlooked the possibility that the cow might be aggressive and might react to my presence.  I just wanted to be helpful to the police.

If you ever find yourself in a situation where you’re near some potentially dangerous creature and you’re wondering how you can get it to notice you and thus endanger you further, I suggest that you talk loudly on the phone.  I had considerable success with this method.  I was still on the phone with the police because I wanted to be able to tell them the street name once I found it.  When I rounded the corner of my house and saw that the cow was about thirty feet away, I announced the fact.  The cow heard me.

It stopped, seemed to hesitate for a moment, then turned slowly to face me.  At that point I froze in place because I’ve seen too many dinosaur movies.  I literally tried to stand perfectly still in the hopes that it wouldn’t see the giant fellow right in front of it.  Maybe cows are like movie Tyrannosaurs and I would have been invisible to it had I not moved, but I’ll never know because at the very least, as I said before, cows are not deaf.

I couldn’t stop narrating.  I attracted the attention of the cow by describing to the police that I was attracting its attention.  “I think it might have noticed me.  Yeah, I think it’s noticed me.  Oh, it’s seen me!  It’s seen me!”

Then the unthinkable happened, or at the very least something happened which was unthinkable to me.  Had I thought of it as a possibility, I might have stayed inside.

The cow charged.

The Cow Charged

First, I should say that a charging cow is a surprisingly intimidating sight.  Even though I generally think of cows as friendly, almost cuddly animals, there’s something viscerally threatening about so large a thing approaching quickly.  Second, I should say that cows are surprisingly spry.  It accelerated better than my car does, which may not be saying much, and better than me too, which is probably saying less; it was incredibly fast.  Third and finally, I should say that cows look surprisingly silly when they charge and the comedy is just as visceral as the terror.  I have never in my life enjoyed peril so lightheartedly.

It launched itself at me with the predatory elegance that one might expect from a cow.  I bolted with the quick-witted evasiveness that one might expect from the traditional prey of the cow, grass.  We were like bloopers from a nature documentary, and I couldn’t stop narrating:  “I’m being chased by a cow!  I’m being chased by a cow!”

We wife heard me shouting that as she watched me run past the front windows of our house.  I like to imagine that she felt a swell of pride about being married to me, but since I was running from a herbivore at the time, I suspect pride might not be the most likely candidate.  She had warned me not to go outside.  She has a disturbing knack for anticipating when I’m about to be involved in something ridiculous.

Even the police found it funny.  While I was fleeing for my life and hoping that the cow wouldn’t catch me and step on my fragile little toes–crushed toes were the danger I thought about most at the time–I heard the police laughing in my ear.  They must have put my call on speaker-phone at some point, because I heard laughter from probably half a dozen people.

Fortunately for me, while cows are not deaf, they are cumbersome.  They’re more cumbersome even than I am, which is rather more cumbersome than any mammal has any business being.  I escaped because I cornered better.  The cow lumbered past me and then, perhaps because I was no longer worth the effort of turning around, continued away through the neighborhood.  

I never found out what happened to it.  I did learn an important lesson though.  A few minutes after all of this, some chickens escaped from the same place and also ran through our yard.  I stayed in my house.

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14 thoughts on “Between the Cows and Me, Again (The End)

  1. laughing out loud while I read your post, and chuckling still as I comment. Glad to hear you didn’t risk the wrath of the chickens (you do know that birds are quite closely related to Velociraptors?)

  2. What a delightful story. You had me laughing histerically at the visual you created. I’m glad you’re safe from both the cow and the chickens. You brightened my day.

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