I probably should give readers a break from my
incessant cow-calf parables. I don’t want to leave people with the impression
that my life revolves around cows. Oh, well, maybe it does, particularly during
calving season, anyway.
At a recent trip to the hardware store to pick
up sealant for the stock tank (aka watering trough for cows), I met a kindred
soul named Susan who also loves her cows. Just like me, she’s often taken quite
a bit of flack for naming her cattle.
Traditionalists give cows numbers in lieu of
names. Ours have numbers, but numbers are too boring for me to remember them. By the time I get from the
pasture to the house to jot down the number of a heifer in heat, 129, for example,
I’m having to ask myself if it was 219, 192, or 129, necessitating another trip to the pasture. Besides, I can’t help it.
If one is around an animal long enough to observe its unique characteristics and
personality, the critter just ups and names itself!
Speaking of critters: I just happened to catch
the cutest shot of these two little cherubs in the pasture today.
“He rode
upon a cherub, and flew; and He was seen upon the wings of the wind.” –2
SAMUEL 22:11 (NKJV)
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