As I parked my car this morning, I saw a black and white figure lurking beneath the hornbeams and obviously up to no good.
But what on Earth …. ?
Ah. I see. Great. Super. As they had long-planned, Margaret’s cows had broken into the garden.
A frantic phone call to Margaret, “Help!” and a solo, doomed effort to keep the bovine bandits corralled in the top corner of the garden …
… armed with nothing but a stick and choice language.
Didn’t work, of course. They galloped past me, chortling, and out across the east lawn like a sweep of wildebeest with me in hot, futile pursuit, waving my stick. Wish I’d filmed it.
Pink-dressing-gown-clad help arrived from the house, having seen a cow trot past the kitchen window. Together we headed them off from the kidney beds, screamed when they approached the veg beds and hurled abuse as they veered off toward the long borders. We ordered them out through the gate and onto the drive – only to be stared back at: silently, curiously, ignored. By luck alone, we managed eventually to coerce them back up towards the greenhouse.
At which point, Margaret arrived yodeling and chirruping her unique cow call. And, as always, it worked. Like obedient Labradors they trotted off back through the knocked down stretch of post and rail fence and into her field. Without so much as an apologetic, backward glance.
There wasn’t so very much damage. My cool, early morning demeanour was gone, lots of hoofprints across the lawns and …
… a few parting gifts.
Oh, and they helped themselves to my asparagus as, I suspect, they had always intended.
The Anxious Gardener 
Thank you for this post! It helped us decide where NOT to plant the asparagus!
Really enjoyed your story with photos!
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Good stuff! Pleased to have been of use, all the best, Dave
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This made me chuckle and brought back a memory of growing up near a dairy farmer’s field, when cows broke through to our yard! I was astonished that my hand became so greasy dirty after petting them! Amazing that while I like cows so much, it took me another couple decades to stop eating them!! Havent stopped all dairy products though. Love your blog!
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Hi Jayne, I do tend to touch Margaret’s cows with caution; they are a bit grubby and yes, greasy too. Glad you like the blog and thanks for commenting. Dave
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David, David, David, that aint no Dalmation. WHAT a nightmare. It’d be enough to make you want to pull out a sharp knife and see hamburgers. However will the asparagus cope? Will the intriguingly un-named,pink dressing-gown make a re-appearance? You, sir, deserve a few G&Ts.
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A dalmatian I could’ve coped with Mr F. And I will be ordering beef from Margaret some day soon … and will relish it. Asparagus flavoured beef, I wonder? The pink-dressing-gowned one is beyond my control. Who knows its whims or fancies. D
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Oh dear, I’m afraid this made me laugh out loud, even as I was sympathising. But hey, at least you got some free manure! OK, not much compensation for the asparagus, and I do truly symapthise, but you do tell a good tale!
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Don’t be afraid, Janet. I too can laugh about it – now. Always a delight to see your pretty bright flower gravatar! D
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I hope your day got better as it went on. That would be my worst. nightmare
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Yes, thanks Bridget – my day did get better. A worse nightmare would’ve been had they been in the garden for several hours rather than getting in just as I arrived. D
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Well, at least they weren’t woodchucks.
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*Chuckle*
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We had cows next door for a while, so I can relate. I was always running after them, waving my arms, more scared of them than they were of me. I wish I knew Margaret’s special yodel!
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Hi Holley, I love having the cows next door – just not visiting. Though this is the first time in four years. D
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Now that’s operatic. I’m so sorry about your asparagus and cool, early-morning demeanor! At least the kidney beds still look their vibrant, gorgeous selves. (Not that I mean to suggest that the rest of you might not.) Margaret will have to start giving yodeling lessons. You can pass on a new maxim to young George, on the lines of, “Lurking cows bode no good.”
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Operatic perhaps though it struck me at the time as more of a Keystone Cops moment as I dashed one way across the lawns and then the other. And sadly you are right – I wasn’t looking vibrant and definitely not gorgeous. D
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I’m quite scared of cows so that would have sent me diving for cover. A coward I know! At least they didn’t trample through the flower borders. They have quite refined taste to have gone for the asparagus, still not much consolation to know the local herd are a bunch of gourmets. Hopefully Margaret suitably chastised them. 😉
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No, not especially, WW. Margaret is very indulgent when it come to her cows. They can be scary beasts – so being wary/scared of them is sensible. I’ve been chased by a herd of cows (not M’s) a couple of times and it is a frightening experience. And several people each year are killed by them. D
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We still have dimples in the lawn from what I always think of as “the day I left the gate open and the cows came in”. Pesky things. Thank goodness they had been rounded up and removed before I got home (the gate was only open twenty minutes!) and managed to miss every young plant in the new border they stampeded. Your poor asparagus, though.
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I long for dimples, Sara. Sigh. Pesky things is something I didn’t call them! Dave
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Your life is just so exciting – what next I wonder.
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Quite enough excitement for the time being, thanks Elaine. D
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I do sympathise. The horse have been out and through the garden twice this year. Always after a heavy rain of course! 🙂 Good luck with getting the damage sorted.
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Luckily Libby, they had only just broken into the garden when I arrived. Had they been there all night ………
Thankfully the whole herd didn’t get in but still, there were about 15 or so. More than enough. D
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I would have loved that film….hahahahahahhahahahahaaa….I wonder what they thought of the crazy lady in pink….
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Would’ve been a corker of a film and the pink dressing gown was accorded more respect than I. D
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How frustrating for you, will it take long to restore the damage? I can remember when someones horse decided to gallop round our garden in the night chased by the local bobby and a few other villagers, we slept through it all!! The damage to the lawn next morning was horrendous but soon reverted to lawn again extremely quickly, hope yours does too.
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No real damage to restore, Pauline. The lawns will just have to be left to do their own thing and the asparagus cut back and we have a fencer coming next week. I think you might have dreamed the horse/bobby/villagers scenario? Sounds like it’s straight out of an Ealing comedy! Very funny. Dave
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At first when I read the title I thought cows in the asparagus was going to be a euphemism for something else…. but no seriously naughty cows!
My parents have a house in France and over the years we have given them various exotics, only for the cows from the neighbouring farm to eat them. New growth on bamboo is also an enjoyable snack for cows!
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Seriously naughty cows should have been this post’s title. I’m very intrigued as to what euphemism ‘cows in the asparagus’ might mean!?! Your parents’ neighbours’ cows have exotic (and expensive) tastes. So kind of you to keep them well fed. D
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Is it coincidence that there’s an ad’ at the bottom of this posting to drop 3 dress sizes? Is that from running around like a man-possessed thru’ the asparagus, pass the greenhouse, across the kidney bed back to the field next door. Very apt. Don’t fancy your chances of ‘bagging’ that poop neatly…good luck with that one 🙂
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Don’t know about ads, Jane? Do you mean in your email account? Shouldn’t be any ads on the blog page. (Said he hastily back-pedalling on the dropping dress size suggestion). I imagine the mower will ‘pick’ up most of the mess – though it won’t be a pleasant job. D
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Sorry this did make me laugh especially when Margaret just called them and they came!!
I remember a few years back when a flock of sheep went roaming around our estate first thing in the morning having a lovely time in the front gardens because someone had left the gate open by the cattle grid – it was very amusing.
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That’s quite OK Helen – you’re allowed to laugh. I did – after the event. I just didn’t want you to think that I was moaning (given your recent piece!!). The cows had actually opened a gate themselves so as to get into part of a field they aren’t allowed in. It was from here that they walked through some waiting-to-be-repaired fencing, previously damaged by deer. D
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And then it was there! C, they’ll be ok next year and you got some free manure too!
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Couldn’t see the asparagus bed, was there an image? Bad luck, but as you say you got off light, more than I can say about my fox! Christina
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Hi Christina, I already have a huge manure pile from M’s farm so don’t really need any extra deliveries! And as for the asparagus – well, yes I would have been cutting it back soon anyway. Dave
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