Margaret’s Cows

The other day, I was enjoying a mug of Earl Grey in the greenhouse, doing a spot of watering and listening to some tip-top pop tunes on my headphones.  Singing away to myself I didn’t hear that I had company.   It was only some movement, caught out of the corner of my eye,  that made me look outside.
Margaret’s cows had come down to enjoy the long, lush grass growing beneath her ancient fruit trees.  It’s not a large herd but bigger than normal with all the calves that were born in the spring.  They are cute, no question.  Still, I won’t think of that when Margaret is selling boxes of her fantastic, twenty-eight-day-hung beef.  Seriously good beef.
I won’t think of how pretty the calves are to look at and how overly curious they are.

How they like to come up and see who and what I am.  Like her sheep, Margaret’s cows couldn’t want for a better life, better care or better surroundings.

It’s jolly nice to have a visit when you’ve been alone all day.  But when your visitor leans over the fence and helps herself to Priory property, well!  Munching, uninvited, hazel and hawthorn without so much as a, “I’m a little peckish, would you mind if I just had a little bite of ….?”.
How rude?  But then what would you expect?  Notice the curious spiked nose ring she’s wearing?  Do you know what it’s for?  I didn’t.  It’s to stop her stealing milk from another cow, that’s what for.  She’s a milk filcher.  A robber, a stealer, a pilferer.  She’ll brazenly tuck under another cow and help herself to milk.  But if she goes for a crafty suckle, whilst wearing the spiked ‘Ring of Shame’, she’ll stab the victim in the udder and, understandably, get a good hard kick.  That’ll teach her.  Serve her right too.  But which is worse?  A hard, justified kick or the wearing of the ‘Ring of Shame’.  I think the latter.  Imagine the disgrace.  The ignominy.  To be the only Thief of the Herd.  Reviled, berated, gossiped about and

……. oh.  Oh, not you too?  Well, really.  We all know what you’ve been doing Madam, don’t we?  A milk mugger!  How could you?  Tut tut.

7 thoughts on “Margaret’s Cows

  1. Lovely. We have this year's heifers in the field that borders one side and the bottom of the garden, and they were all arranged along the boundary this weekend to watch us in the garden. Now that a little fencing prevents them reaching over to nibble on the veg patch, and the new hedge plants don't seem to being hoiked up any more, I turn a blind eye to the nibbling of the more mature boundary trees.
    I'll have to keep an eye out and see if any of our ladies wear the ring of shame…


  2. I know, Janet, I know. There is obviously no bovine decency in the world anymore. I blame the parents.

    Mmmm, Mark and Gaz, undeniably cute and undeniably tasty. But then I think that about most food animals.

    Hi Faisal, not sure I understand what you mean; not very bright that's my problem. Well, one of them.

    Stacy, to my surprise I've never read a Christie book. I should really pick one up. I suppose the victims only gets stabbed once or twice before the offender learns her lesson. Your compliment re the sky shot means a lot coming from the mistress of skyscapes!



  3. If it were just the one cow stealing, I'd suggest that maybe she's like those mildly batty old ladies in Agatha Christie type novels who like to take things but don't really mean any harm. But two of them–that's just shocking. It does seem unfair that the poor, innocent victim cow should be the one getting poked in the udder because of someone else's bad behavior, though.


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