A Real Cowgirl

As I've mentioned before, my husband's niece, C, from California is spending an extra week with us here in Minnesota.

Yesterday she said she was going to hop in her rental car and do a little town tour to familiarize herself with certain spots and areas. I needed to go up to the farm to get milk so I said I'd chauffeur her around. She seemed particularly happy about my offer since she hadn't gotten to go up to the farm last week when some of the other visiting family made the trip and got the tour of the dairy.

Off we went but 'bout halfway through our town tour we decided that Sunday of Labor Day Weekend was not the best time we could have chosen to play town tourist because approximately 10,000 other people (give or take a few) were doing the same thing in cars and on foot in our little burg.

We were going to fortify ourselves with a coffee treat from the local java joint but I couldn't find a parking space anywhere nearby. C jumped out and went in to get our drinks while I drove around until a spot opened up to park. What ensued inside was apparently one of those comedies of errors fueled by wrong orders going to wrong people and a complete back-up of the loooong line waiting for drinks. By the time C finally stumbled out (with coffees in hand, the girl doesn't give up), we both said, "Get us out of here!"

Up to the farm we headed, soon turning off the paved road onto gravel for the next several miles. (And not a tourist in sight!) Arriving at our destination, next to where I parked was a nice sized pen with a couple of this year's little calves in it, although they aren't so little anymore.

After we loaded up on our dairy supplies, C, true animal lover that she is, wanted to go over to pet and talk with the calves.

This little guy immediately came trotting over to her and gave her hand several good slurps with his huge tongue while she was trying to scratch his soft, fuzzy head.

Then she fed him a couple of handfuls of grass.

Then she stepped right in a big pile of cow . . . well, you can fill in the blank. (What the heck was the cow plop doing OUTSIDE of the fence?) Because of her basically good nature, this didn't upset C as much as it would have me. But I did make her walk around in the grass while scooching her left foot a lot before I would let her back in our vehicle.

Our daughter, Chicken Mama, stopped at our house for dinner last night with C, hubby and I. We told her the story of C's visit with the calves and Chicken Mama commented that she's tried to get up close and personal with the calves when at the farm but they have never wanted to come close to her. Guess it goes to show that C does possess a bit of animal magnetism that can't be denied.