Nice Bossy, nice Bossy!

With horns like these, cows demand respect from us little two-leggers! How would you like to find fourteen cows in your “yard” one morning? That’s what we encountered today, so as usual we lured them into one of our pens by tossing out some hay. Then we called the neighbor they belong to. He said his own fences were in good repair, but a mutual neighbor, the guy who owns the regional phone company, couldn’t care less about his own fences. Unfortunately the phone guy’s property abuts about a half-mile of ours, and is in a location where we almost never go because it’s so steep and rocky.

In this part of the country if you don’t want somebody’s livestock on your place you fence them out; they don’t necessarily have to fence them in.

But we’re busy, we complain. Today I’m doing annual maintenance on our road grader so I can patch a washout on our road, Karla is embroiled in working with our Congressman to reverse the Park Service’s cowardly decision to kick our horses out of Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park this summer, and tomorrow Thurmond is bringing his backhoe to put in our septic tank, clear off a place for our water tank platform, and cut over a thousand feet of trench for our water pipes. Who has time to fix fence, I ask you.