One ringy-dingy

Aug 11, 2008 12:51 PM, By Jeff Ryan

Sometimes all the pieces come together just right. We had everything planted, but the ground was still too wet to cut any hay. There really wasn’t anything on my agenda that was pressing, so I decided to sleep in late that Saturday morning. It would be nice to take it easy for one day.

Fate has a wicked sense of humor. Shortly after 7:00, my phone rang. I got out of bed to make my way over to the phone on my desk. My landline phone rarely rings in the morning. Heck, my landline hardly ever rings any time of day! When it does, there’s usually a very good reason. This was one of those days, only different. On about the third step toward my desk, I came down on my foot at a bad angle. It was almost perfectly 90 degrees from square. That maneuver also came with an incredible “SNAP!!!”

My eyes were wide open at that point. I fully expected to look down and see the bottom part of my foot dangling free, or maybe a bone sticking out at the very least. Strangely enough, there appeared to be no visible damage. It didn’t even hurt. I hadn’t stepped on anything or tripped over anything. It was pure, raw talent. Had there been an audience, I’m sure the first question would have been, “So, first day with the new feet?”

I grabbed the phone on the fourth ring and was greeted by a dial tone. Well, well, well! A major injury in exchange for a hang-up. Seems like a fair trade for attempting to sleep in late.

I heard a vehicle rev its engine somewhere outside my window. Then I heard my front door. It was quickly followed by footsteps. Guy No. 1 showed up and informed me that the caller had given up on me and called him instead. My cows were standing on the front lawn at the moment!

Knowing my herd, and knowing that they take the whole herd concept quite seriously, I knew it wouldn’t be good. Standing on the front lawn is never a good place for them . . . or me. Standing on the front lawn after a foot of rain in a few days makes it a bit worse. Even the skinniest cow leaves some serious tracks under those circumstances.

Fueled by adrenaline, low blood sugar and a healthy does of rage from free time lost, I got dressed in short order and made my way out the door. “The herd” wasn’t really a herd. It was mainly a group of pregnant cows that were nearing their due date. Guess what? Females very near the time when the miracle of birth takes place tend not to be tiny. If you could sort through your entire herd of cows, you would find that the ones whose calves are a month old tend to be a bit smaller, weight-wise, than those a month away from calving. Take a wild guess and see if you can figure out which ones would leave deeper tracks on your front lawn in that case.