On Sunday night, our friends took us out to the cattle. We piled into a pickup and drove a mile or so outside “town.” We pulled through a gate into the pasture and pulled plastic buckets of oats out of the back.
As soon as we got out of the truck, about half the cows started our way.
I’m a city boy. I’m used to seeing cows on the other side of the fence. Having a huge animal heading my way with conviction was a little bit intimidating.
I stood my ground.
A neighbor graciously allowed me to photograph her sitting in the chair feeding the cows.
She got up after a minute or so. I was concentrating on the animals that were vying for the oats in my bucket and forgot about the chair. When I looked over, I saw this. I took several photos, but when I saw the chair start to tip over, I rushed in and rescued it.
Later, my friend said he was surprised I was willing to wade into the herd. I said it was a testimony to the faith I have in him. I figured he would let me know if I was about to die.
There wasn’t nearly enough in our buckets for all the cows, or even for those who came to see us. I asked about this and was told it’s just an excuse for farmers to get out with their animals and see how the herd is doing. Whatever the reason, I thought it was fun.