In Hogsback we don’t chase cars or pavements, we chase cows. These four legged, agile, garden trampling, flower gobbling, leather cladded creatures stroll leisurely from garden to garden, munching on anything and everything.
Considering that the cows we have here in Hogsback, can graciously jump over fences, there is nothing much that you can do to keep them out of your beloved garden. It must be all the special herbs and spices that they munch on all over the village that gives them superpowers beyond imagination. I no longer think that the cow that jumped over the moon is just a story. That particular cow must have come from Hogsback.
So I wake up in the middle of the night, thinking there is an earthquake. My whole cabin is shaking and my cat is hanging onto my hair in fear and trepidation. A quick squizz out my window quickly reassured me that it is not the mountain that is shaking, it is a very large cow scratching herself on the corner of my cabin, in the moonlight.
My fear turned into fury. I managed to hobble into my slippers and grab a stick. By the time I reached the bottom of my stairs, the gathering of grazing cows had danced down to the next level of my garden munching on takeaways of snow drops and other remaining delicious greenery.
If anyone thought that cows are slow moving, gracious animals, I want to dispel that notion straight away. They are, as I have mentioned, agile sprinters, jumpers and record breaking endurance munchers that could easily represent us at the next Olympics.
So before I knew it, I was standing, in my pajamas, with mud soaked slippers, in the moonlight, at the bottom of my garden, wondering #whattheheck. Those who know my garden will know how steep it is, and those who know me, will also know that I am not your average, jumping, running, athletic type. To get back up to my cozy bed will be a long haul in the dark.
When a cow was found in the main road, not quite alive, my cow story became a murder mystery. Who killed the cow? I just want to state for the record that I was not involved in any way in this part of the story. As a matter of fact I had a firm alibi. The fact is that I really liked cows, up until the point that they trampled the remaining remnant of my blossoms not devoured by the goat mafia that terrorise my abode from time to time. So no, I wont hurt a cow.
They say that when life deals you lemons, add gin and tonic and throw a party. So I have decided to stop being a cow-ard and make my “hide”-away a cow sanctuary. Bring your mother in law, send your ex, book in your boss who is making your life a misery…for that matter, send all the cows in your life and come and hang out at Ilifu! So what if I don’t have a prize garden, and if things are going a bit wild! We will figure out a way to make face masks from the abundant cow turds and biltong from the rest.
See you in paradise. Weather you are a cow or not. #paradiselife
Tagged with: Cows