I like cows. When I was a young girl, we lived on a farm and had dairy cows. They had names and were very much a part of our family. I never mastered milking, even with the expert instruction of my Dad.
Then when I married John (42 years ago!) I inherited his brother James and his family. For many years they lived on a large piece of property in Alabama that included space for cows. They also had names. They became our friends, too, though they lived too far to visit often. But James would call them, one by one, by name, and we would hear an immediate reply! I loved hearing those heartfelt, vigorous “moos”!
So, it is a joy, living here in town, to drive down Old Smyrna Road which connects our home to Brentwood. There are several farms that have cows, often grazing fairly near the road. My favorites live at the farm just as you make the curve at the dead end, going toward Wilson Pike. They rotate pastures so are not close many drives……but I am guessing they love the little creek that leads to the stacked stone, especially on our hot summer days!
There seems to be a collection of drivers of the same mind….I think we are groupies! Once last year I was coming home, made the turn and came upon an amazing sight…….more cows than I had ever seen at that spot….at least 50, no kidding! Cars were pulled off the road, drivers were out, close to the rock fence, excitedly chatting with one another….and the cows! Lots of pictures! I quickly joined them and recognized a sense of community unlike my usual experience. These creatures were a common denominator for people who had never met and yet conversed like old friends. I remember thinking how important that concept is in our lives that extend past cow pastures!
I have been disappointed lately they haven’t been in a near pasture…..so was delighted yesterday to see several a little far off for a good photo….but close enough to call and try to lure them to the creek….very close! Well, you wouldn’t have wanted to hear my attempts…..me standing down in a shallow culvert….leaning into the stones…arms raised, gesturing my welcome…my Dad would have laughed!….two or three did get to their feet…..one looked pretty perturbed at the interruption to a nap! They turned toward the racket I was making, some lumbered a bit closer….but mostly stood together, looking straight at me….but no further forward movement!
Herd mentality. Go figure.
Lessons from the Road 
Well, Jackie, here is something else we have in common. My dad loved cows although we never lived on a farm and he didn’t have cattle until he married Ramelle and then he put together a small herd of his own. Anyway, during my growing up when we spent time at the Girl Scout camp outside Paris, TN (My parents helped build that camp) we would stop at a cattle ranch on the way home to Huntingdon. Dad would stop the car along one of the fields, we would roll down the windows and hang out of the car to serenade the cattle with our Girl Scout songs. They must have appreciated our singing because they would gather at the fence looking at us. We got such a kick out of having an audience of cows! Such fun moomemories!
Shirl
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Oh, a comrade! You clearly had a lot more to offer with your young voices and sweet giggles!
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