Bee Tree Farm

I didn’t make it through the week. Well I mean, I made it obviously. I’m here right now, but in order to get here and not lose certain amounts of sanity and happiness I broke down (twice) for a quick trip to the land during the week (twice). This probably isn’t the best use of my free, after-work time. However, it made me sleep better at night to know that the animals were still alive and well without my constant presence. Although, let’s face it, my constant presence has never inspired more than excitement that I might produce the odd carrot and when I do not, I receive a quick sniff and am generally ignored. Thursday night was a necessary trip because my Tuesday trip revealed a dangerously low supply of hay, which turned out not to be that low at all, but hey – I was looking for another excuse to go back before Saturday. I hung out with the animals while Jeremy drove down the road for a few round bales of hay (locating hay during a drought deserves it’s own post. Yes. It’s THAT interesting). As the sun sunk behind the trees, my cattle simultaneously stood at attention, eyes fixed on the woods, not 30 feet away. Due to their obviously limited intelligence, I just figured they were fascinated with…I don’t know…whatever fascinates cows. Grass? I glanced at Chula, the “guard donkey” purchased specifically to stand at attention when a threat actually exists. She was munching happily on her sweet feed, completely ignoring the woods. At this point I had become pretty impressed with the focus of my cows. Again – they are cows. COWS. I’m certain they’re not good for too much, but suddenly they appeared transformed into regal guard animals. One more glance at Chula confirmed that nothing was amiss which was enough to convince me (all my online research demonstrated that nothing guards better than a donkey) that all was well. At this precise moment and in the precise spot that my cattle were staring, I heard a loud rustle, followed by the blur of a dog-sized animal jumping forward. Holy. Crap. What the…? Is that a cat (too large)? Raccoon (too large)? Fox (too large!@$!!)?? No dear people, this was a coyote, the first I’d ever experienced, the very reason I’d gotten the donkeys in the first place, and only about 30 feet from my little group of livestock. As is normal in such a situation, I screamed. This had the desired effect, sending the thing shooting off down the road. I whipped around, excited to watch Chula in all her guard animal glory (I have no idea what that looks like), but was disappointed to see her still eating the oats, oblivious to the action behind her. The sound of hooves made me turn back to the road, which now was filled with three tiny galloping cows – chasing after the coyote. All the research that went into locating the perfect guard animal to protect my diminutive, delicate cattle – pointless. Sheesh. Thanks for nothing Chula. As for the coyote, it won’t come back. I’m pretty sure nothing is as frightening as a chase by three trotting cows and one screaming woman in high heels.