Bovine before breakfast

Our story begins Thursday evening. Smooch and I hopped in the Ranger to check on the herd and say goodnight.
It was getting dark and I saw no point in taking the camera. Big mistake. As we got to the far reaches of the back 40,
I spotted Hank and Lucy and George and Alan and ? Who in the hell was that?
We got a little closer and saw a cow, nibbling on our grass inside our fence line. Grrrr.
I saw the telltale loopy line of fence tape where she had jumped through,
oblivious to the electrical charge that zapped her. Damned cow.

You'll have to use your imagination to see what ensued. I tried to herd her back toward the stretched fence
in the Ranger. Smooch was barking. I was laughing. Hank, Lucy, George and Alan were stampeding.
Total mayhem. I finally decided it was getting too dark for such nonsense and gave up.
At some point during the night, the cow – desperate to get back to her own herd –
would figure a way out of the fence and be gone by the morning.

I was wrong. I opened my eyes Friday morning and there she was, right outside my bedroom window. 

Cow: What time is breakfast?

 

Hank: We tried to ditch her last night, I swear.

Hank: Please tell me you're not going to adopt her.

Me: Not if I can help it.

I closed Hank and the herd in the barn and set out to convince the cow to leave.

That didn't go too well.

The yuccas are in full bloom and must be very tasty.

If you think she looks grumpy, you should have seen me. I hadn't had my coffee.

I opened the nearby gate.

I was sure I could herd her through it, down the driveway and out of my hair.

I was wrong again. She had no intention of leaving and headed the opposite direction.

I headed for the garage and got the Ranger.

Around and around the pasture we went.

Finally, I was able to push her out the gate. I could almost smell the coffee.

A hundred more yards or so and she would be out the front gate and I could hit rewind on the morning.

Wrong again.

To be continued...