Okay, so maybe it wasn't quite that late, but 11 p.m. is late in this woman's world.
Mr. Farmer was winding down watching the local news as my head was already hitting the pillow. I was starting to doze off when I heard the phone go off. I didn't hear it ring, for it was on an entirely different level of the house - but the vibration from wherever it sat was loud enough to wake me up. Looking at the clock, 11:08 p.m., who is calling at this late hour?
Sure enough, it was the neighbor. Apparently, some cows got out and were in their yard. Mr. Farmer receiving little to no information at all, got in a tizzy and started out the door. I thought back to the many days growing up on the farm and how hard it was to chase cattle this time at night or any time of the day for that matter.
I suited up.
We got to the neighbor's on the highway to find a handful of cars parked all over the yard, a small gathering of people -more onlookers than help - and the Sherriff's car with lights flashing parked on the side of the road.
Getting past the crowd, Mr. Farmer came to find out that the cattle weren't his. Thank goodness, a sigh of relief. I grabbed a couple of flashlights we had under the seat and joined the effort to help. When we got to the scene, we came to find out that there were 9 bottle calves that escaped their pen and walked about a mile to the neighbor's house - somehow crossing over a major highway without getting hit.
I thought to myself, calves? Oh this is nothing. Sure enough, these guys were pretty tame, getting them onto the trailer was easy.
After dropping them off and penning them up, Mr. Farmer and myself headed back to the house. Pushing Midnight, I was spent but relieved it wasn't his 40 head of cows and calves that had escaped….yet.