Um...
Hello. Stop eating my mom's garden, please.
No really, go home.
No, the other way.
Atta girl.
One day on our most recent OK trip, Dad and I tried to convince this cow to join her own kind on the other side of a neighbor's fence. With some help from a few other neighbors who knew more about cows and fences than we do, we succeeded.
Of course, that was after I followed her down their street, by myself, in my PJs, with the whole neighborhood on their porches laughing at me. Seriously, I needed some help.
Finally, an older couple came out, with a piece of twine they use as a leash for their chihuahua. Um. OK. You rope that cow and lead her home. That can be your job, lady.
And there were some scary houses that I just stood on the road watching while she perused the backyards. I wasn't about to snoop around the broken down cars and refrigerators.
The neighbors and I sent her back down to her corner where Dad and a neighbor were waiting with a low spot in the fence. And the fun was over.
The next day, on the way to church, we saw a black cow roaming the neighborhood, but Mom wouldn't let me get out to chase her. Bummer.
