Bovine before breakfast, the conclusion

We rejoin our story as the trespassing bovine ignores my instructions to exit down the driveway

and get the hell off my land.

The cow and I played a lengthy game of hide and seek in the area by the hay barn. 

I was on foot at this point and cursing up a storm. 

(My potty mouth gets pottier in direct proportion to my lack of caffeine.)

Alan: Mom is mad. Be very afraid.

Cow: I smell hay.

Me: @#$%^&!

Cow: I wonder where the water is?

Me: &%#!@$%#@)!

She headed for the rain gauge, surprising all of us. We didn't think cows were that clever.

(Look closely and you'll see Smooch with her donkey ears up.)

She mumbled something about the prolonged drought and how tough it is to be a cow these days,

then moved off with great determination.

We all wondered where she was going.

The clever cow went right back to the gate through which I had chased her, now closed.

Cow: I sense I'm not welcome here.

Had she stared at me for one more second, she would now have a name and her own stall in the barn,

but she did the right thing and set her sights on the open gate at the end of the driveway.

She'll be happier among her own herd, or so I kept telling myself.
Besides, I think cattle theft might still be a hanging offense in New Mexico.

We said our goodbyes, another ranch adventure came to a peaceful end,

and I finally got to have my coffee.