There is a road that runs through cattle pastures, not too far from here. I would park the car and walk the length of it passing all kinds of cows, most of which I couldn’t confidently identify, except for the longhorns. They were largely reserved and watched me at a distance, but a few would be curious enough to come to the fence.
“Ginger” (above) would insist on getting my attention and eventually came up to the fence allowing me to give her head a scratch, but only after my fingers (and my phone!) got checked out by her long rough tongue! She’d chat with me and spent a lot of time with me after my ginger cat passed away at New Years. Sadly, she too has moved on, likely what is called a “springer”. I miss her conversations.
These two longhorns belonged to Mr. Hyder in the neighbouring pasture. His herd had a huge area to travel, but the main pasture was separated from the roadside by a creek and a bridge. The little black bull calf was terrified of the rushing creek. He’d walk to the edge and stand there while all the other cows and calves passed underneath. There was no way he could get across, so he bellowed for his mother to come back. In the painting, he was only a month old and she was protective of him, but eventually they were both enthusiastic friends when I’d come to visit.
Mr. Hyder sold his herd last winter and all the pastures have been empty. I’m hoping we’ll see more soon. My big fear is increasing development in the area with more and more out of state developers with no interest in the community building tracts of housing. The country never seems to remain rural for long these days.