The "Girls" Come for a Drink

The land on which our house sits was, at one time, cattle pasture. Actually, our entire subdivision sits on retired farm land. Luckily for us, the land's original owner still has quite a bit of property for his cattle, and three of his fields are behind our house. As I mentioned the other day, the field farthest from us borders the Harpeth River. Every couple of weeks, the cows move into the pastures behind our house.

In the 12 years we've lived here, I've had a lot of opportunity to watch the cows. . .and they me, for that matter. Sometimes they get very close to the fence, and they and our dogs have a staring contest. I wonder if the dogs think that the cows are over-sized canines, and the cows think the dogs are runt calves. Normally, if we get too close to the fence, the cows will run into the pasture. The calves, however, tend to be a bit braver.

Sunday morning, I walked my dogs to the fence where a few calves were chewing on grass. The calves just stood and stared at us. When Decker lunged, most of the calves fled, as usual. One, which was about 20 feet to our left, stayed close to the fence, even when my husband came out with the hose. Michael put the hose over the fence and waited. Soon the calf (the black one in the photo on the right) came over and started to drink out of the "fountain." I ran for the camera.
We waited, and soon a number of other calves and cows ambled slowly toward the fence. At one point, there were about 12-15 cows trying to get a drink.

If happiness truly consisted in physical ease
and freedom from care,
then the happiest individual would not be
either a man or a woman;
it would be, I think, an American cow.
- William Lyon Phelps