Pencil Drawing - Original Not for Sale
I grew up on a small dairy farm with two sisters and a brother. All of our cows were named. They were very tame, and they were our pets. My dad would fence off different areas of the farm and pasture the cows out in them. Many times we would be sent out to bring the cows in for evening milking. One beautiful, warm summer afternoon my sister and I talked and played as we walked out to bring them in. Stub (named for her stubbed horn) had just calved. Her baby had gone under the electric fence and wandered into the cornfield. Stub was obviously distressed and trying to find her new baby. She took one look at us and decided that we must have taken him. If you have ever seen an angry bull, you have seen nothing compared to an angry, red-eyed mother cow whose baby is gone. She took off after us full speed, and we thought we were goners. We were under the fragile fence, into the cornfield, and out of there! We were so surprised that our pet would charge us, but . . . I haven't seen many 'moms' who wouldn't do the same for their children!
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