a cow with mom

Today I am grateful for cows.  Yes, those brown-eyed, big eared, bony-hipped bovines are the topic for today.  (I love anything with bony hips because it’s such an exotic concept to me.)  Is it because of the healthy milk, cheese, cream they provide us with?  Partly.  Is it because my grandpa had some on his farm when I was a kid and I grew up calling the bossies in from the field?  Sure.  Is it because it still gives me pleasure to see a herd grazing in a field, even though there are less and less of them?  Yup.


But the main reason cows made the cut today is because my mom loves them.  They give her pleasure.  I have no clue why and I certainly don’t remember her loving them whenever we went to the grandparents farm.  Quite the opposite. “I HATE going there for a picnic because of the damned flies from all of the cow-pies!” she’d complain.  With cows come cow-pies.  It’s a given.


Can you love the cow while hating the manure?  Apparently you can.  I suppose the same is true of any animal.  I don’t know anyone who gets a kick out of picking up steaming turds while walking a dog, then finishing the walk with the dangling baggie wafting in the breeze.  And scooping a litter dish if you have a cat is not up there on anyone’s list of love-to-dos.  Especially if their aim is not great.


But poop is poop and difficult to ignore.  Especially if you are walking in a field where there are cows or have a nose that works.  But mom is 91 and living in assisted living, so maybe she has finally reached the point of letting in only the pleasurable aspects of cows.  I hope it carries to other things, too.


On an unseasonably mild day for Wisconsin in November, my sister took her on a literal field trip to find cows.  What a creative and great idea!  Schlepping mom is not always easy, which is an understatement.  Especially because mom can be. . .um. . .well let’s say she can complain a little.  Loudly.  Yeah, that sounds better than she’s cranky and bitchy. We’ll go with “complain”.


She can also be a little wobbly on her feet, as you’d expect with someone her age, so walking on grass is dicey. Plus she has macular degeneration and can’t see unless she gets up close and personal.  It doesn’t look like the cow minded.  By the way, mom is on the right and not the one without her tongue sticking out.  Oh, come on!  Lighten up!  When we went to the zoo mom would say we were visiting the relatives, so she would approve of that comment.  For sure.


I doubt there were cow-pies on her side of the fence though at this point I don’t think even she would have minded.  So today I am grateful for cows and for my sister who made the cow field trip happen and also took the great picture!

(I promise every post is not about poop.  If you can take more, go to



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