The Beautiful “Bellow” of a Country Morning (Noon & Night!)

For those of you who may have any experience with “country livin’”, you know that there are certain constants…blue skies (when it’s not comin’ a tornado), birds singing their morning songs, crickets and frogs chirping their summer night songs, and …cows. If you’ve ever meandered through certain states on most any main highway, then you’ve seen them there too. They nibble grass and chew their cud in pastures that dot the sides of these highways. Some people from cities point them out as country people do skyscrapers in the big city… “Look, guys! Look, it’s a cow!” I, for one, have never lost that enthusiasm! I know it’s sad, but I’m ok with it.

Having just recently moved to the area, we aren’t familiar with many of our neighbors. Across the street, uh-hum, excuse me, that is “road” (see previous blog!) lives an older lady and gentleman. We have exchanged the customary wave or nod with the man as he walks, cane in hand, to retrieve his mail. There’s a pasture behind their house. I am not sure if he owns or rents it out, but it’s occupied by a number of cattle, or should I say – there’s a bunch of cows livin’ in that pasture. I perceive that it may be rented in that the same truck comes daily and goes toward the gate with sacks of what looks like “feed”. It’s also frequented by this same guy on a four wheeler – another staple of country livin’. So it’s my assumption that the cows do not actually belong to my neighbor, but you know what assuming gets you.

Shortly after moving into our quaint little abode, I was startled one morning by a very disturbing “bellow”. The kids also noted that it sounded pretty unsettling. Thinking it was simply a “one time moo”, we continued whatever mundane task with which we busied ourselves – you know country life, mom cooking, cleaning, darning the socks and kids dutifully at chores (yeah, it could happen, somewhere). Suddenly, we heard it again, then again – man what was up with this cow? Did some poor Bessie go into labor, did a dog bite some bovine and they were now awaiting a vet, was it going to a slaughter house and knew what was coming (you know you eat steak or burgers– and if you’re a vegetarian, my apologies, no offense intended – this is country livin’, remember)?

My children were off to their father’s that weekend so they left during the day. However, the poor cow continued its chorus. I had about reconciled with the fact that it had to be Bessie. Night came, and the painful yowling continued. I could feel her pain, having been there myself, and was about ready to ask for her an epidural or for someone to please help the poor thing. I had an air purifier that assisted in drowning out the noise. Besides, she would be ok by morning, right? Morning arrived… the birds were warbling their morning serenade…heckled by the continuing deep wail of poor Bessie, “MOOOOOOOOOOO”. Alright, now I was getting really curious. I mean, how long could this go on? How long can they let this poor cow lay there in seeming misery?! If indeed labor was the case, around 24 hours was about the duration for me, but maybe it took longer with sisters of the four legged breed. I had to check this out, but I had to do it undercover. There’s one thing people do not appreciate city or country, and that’s a nosy neighbor. I had to get the mail; it was Saturday, so that wouldn’t look too suspicious (don’t know what I’ll do if they get rid of that Saturday mail now, Pat).

After my mailbox trip, I was still at a loss – no vets seemed to be attending and no one seemed to be coming or going with boiling water, newspapers or bed sheets (do they do that with animals?). This was too much! I decided to make a trip to town for the afternoon & night. SURELY it would be settled by night!

My friend, this bellowing Bessie was still going strong when I got home! I was beginning to wish I had some super talent, like cow whispering. If it can be done with dogs, could it be so with bovine? Maybe if I could just go whisper to it, it would settle down. Maybe I could help her count to 10 and help her with her breathing. Maybe I could hold her hoof as she cussed the bull that got her into this! Of course, if I could speak to a cow, I would definitely try and talk it into helping me out with milk that wouldn’t hurt my stomach – it’s real “crappy” being allergic to straight milk, but I digress. Ladies and gentleman, may I inform you that poor Bessie bellowed for 4 straight days, making me eternally grateful for epidurals and painkillers and doctors who come into your delivery room yelling, “Push it out, push it out, WAY OUT (true story)!” And I would love to tell you that we found out the cause of her distress (assuming that it was a she), but we never did. We hypothesized a copious count of conclusions, but never had the nerve to find out for sure. We settled with the only one that made the most heart-warming sense – we now had a new headcount in the pasture across the street, ‘scuse me, “road”. So Bessie, bless your heart and stay away from Curtis (we named the bull responsible). Four sleepless nights is enough for any cow (and her neighbors)!